Mind of the Misanthrope
by RainsPhantom
Summary: Erik, in an asylum, has remained quiet about Christine's whereabouts...until now. Rating bw T & M! EC Dark Erik! Last Chapter posted. EPILOGUE IS NOW UP! ALTERNATE ENDING POSTED NOW! ENJOY
1. Chapter 1 Warning and Foreshadowing

_Disclaimer: I absolutely do NOT own, nor do I gain any monetary subsidies, for this fan fiction story. The characters, setting, names belong to the author that created them (Leroux, Kay), BUT the plot is all mine!_

**Author's Note: Again, I am taking a reprieve from Midnight Music Mystery to start another story since it is nearing its end. I would classify this story as a psychological thriller set in the early 1900s. This Erik is a dark/Leroux one. Please R&R!**

**Summary- Dr. Serene Willows is an aspiring psychologist, who against her husband's wishes, goes to France to help find out what happened to Christine Daae. She must find out from the person responsible: Erik Desslar, who currently resides in an insane asylum.**

_**The Sanity of the Insane**_

_**Chapter One- Warning and Foreshadowing**_

_---In Manhattan---_

Dr. Serene Willows was a relatively attractive woman with long wavy brunette hair and fair emerald green eyes. She had a round face and a body that was neither fat nor skinny.

She had a fiery temperament that usually hid beneath a kind and intellectual exterior. Having gone through years and years of school as well as criticism from a dominantly male prejudiced world, she was able to obtain her degree and become a psychologist.

Most jobs were located in the local insane asylum, and as many in her profession, Serene desired to be remembered for that one case. Well, little did she know, her one case would come very soon.

She was recently married to Spencer Wilhelm Willows, a tall man of lithe stature. He had hazel eyes of honey and chestnut brown hair. He had a strong jaw structure and a muscular body that many would have overlooked had they not seen it personally.

He had a creamy complexion much like his wife's but they struggled to be together. Spencer was named after his mother's surname; his mother and father died soon after Spencer was born in a tragic house fire. A nanny was able to save the infant. He soon was left an orphan at a poor orphanage.

Growing up had been extremely difficult, suffering from bouts of illness, unsanitary conditions, bullying; Spencer had grown into a quiet and reserved man. Throughout those tortuous years, piano was his only solace.

He threw himself into the works of Mozart and Tchaikovsky, earning a meager salary at a local pub, but he was content. At the age of eighteen, however, Spencer had accumulated a large debt that he owed to some men. He had to get another job to pay the debt back, so he soon sought work.

He ended up getting a job at the Healdsburg Mansion. The Healdsburg family was rich after Theodore Healdsburg created a prosperous business (horse racing at that). The family soon traveled overseas to America in hopes of a better life free from oppression. There was only Theodore Healdsburg and his sixteen year old daughter Serene; the mother had died of tuberculosis when her daughter was eight.

Theodore tried to give his daughter everything she could desire, but she missed her mother. Serene became catatonic after her mother's demise, which resulted in eight years of silence.

Theodore was desperate to hear his daughter's voice, so he moved to America, thinking a new environment would change his daughter's condition. Sadly, that notion failed.

Spencer got a job working as a stable boy, much to his despair. His hands soon became raw and calloused, rendering him unable to play the piano for a long time. Among the many horrible memories, he smiled whenever he remembered the first time that he laid eyes on Serene.

She never spoke, but she never needed too; her eyes and facial expressions said it all. She often came down to ride her brown horse, and he always watched at a distance. Embarrassed and ashamed of himself, he never made his presence known to her until the day of her accident.

While riding, her horse spooked and threw her off; consequently, Serene's body was hurled into a tree. Dropping the bridles and halters, Spencer dashed out to her aid. The horse ended up running back into the stables while Spencer lifted the unconscious girl in his arms.

A vague thought went through his mind, '_She will be horrified when she realizes that a dirty, destitute man dared to touch her, but I cannot leave her outside when a storm is coming_.'

Setting her form on some hay in the barn's safety as rain and lightning raged outside, Spencer tended to her wounds and scratches. She had been lucky to survive with minimal injuries.

It was not long after that night that the two fell in love. They married later and moved to Virginia. Spencer reminisced more before Serene called out to him. Standing up, he went inside their cottage home.

Her appearance was frazzled, as she rushed into his arms. His heart nearly stopped with fear that she had been hurt, but he sighed with relief when he realized that she was only excited about something.

She threw her hands up in the air and he noticed a letter with black cursive on it. Serene grabbed his hands, laughing. As he sat down, she kissed him with utter glee. Her merriment was contagious as he soon smiled with her.

"My darling whom I love with my entire being, I received a letter from a colleague that I met in school. He is in Paris, France and he wants me to assist him with a case he is working on with the French police. Here let me read this letter to you!"

Spencer coughed, trying to relieve a lump that had developed in his throat, but he still had a grave feeling about where this was going.

"_Dear Doctor Serene Willows:_

_I pray that this letter finds you in good health. Since our time spent at the academy, I have made a successful asylum. I am writing in reference to one of my patients. It seems that this patient knows the whereabouts of a missing girl, named Christine Daae, who is presumed to be dead. No one seems to know what happened to her, and the French police are at their wits' end. I have been enlisted to help find out what happened; however, I will need an assistant to help me with this case, for this man is an enigma. His name is Erik Desslar. I have mailed a boat ticket for you, and it is my hope that you will accept this offer. I expect you to be paid handsomely for your work, and this case will surely set your career off. Give Monsieur Spencer Willows my highest regards. I will give you a full report once you arrive within three weeks from now. Please accept my offer._

_Cordially,_

_Dr. Jacque L. Belier_

Isn't this wonderful, darling? I can finally get my notification with this case. Jacque is world renowned, so if I am affiliated with any of his cases, I can get noticed by larger institutions!"

Spencer smiled a devastating smile while worry etched itself across his handsome face. He ran a hand through his hair; an unknown fear was eating away at his heart.

"I understand your excitement, angel, but I have a bad feeling about this."

"What do you mean, Spence? This is our chance. If I can get known, we do not have to worry about money anymore; we can pay off your debts and finally be free! Why wouldn't you want that?"

"It's not that at all, Serene. I cannot leave, so you will be going alone. I don't want to be apart from you."

She smiled, which added to the growing ache in Spencer's chest. Grasping his hands, she brought them to her lips. Kissing them, her green eyes stared into his hazel ones as he stroked her cheek reverently.

"Serene, we have not been apart since our marriage, and now you desire to leave. I do not like not being able to be with you in case you need my protection or support. Please, can you not wait until my theater is opened? Do you not know that you will be missing our first anniversary? I had something planned for us that would have been special."

Her eyes lowered in guilt, and she planted herself into his arms. Muttering her apologies, she tried to soothe his anxiety.

"Serene, I know that part of the reason you are going is my fault. Had you not married me, then your father would not have disowned you and have us struggling for money."

He ceased his rationalization when she brought her lips to his. Immediately, his resolve began to crumble as he deepened the kiss. Entwining their hands, he held her as he lowered them to the ground.

He thrust his tongue into her mouth, stroking hers as he explored passionately and groaned within her mouth. She moaned as he rubbed her arms with his hands. How he loved her!

Serene brought her hand to the back of his head, her fingers threading his golden hair, and she pulled him deeper to her. How she loved him! He was always so gentle and kind, but she knew that he would do anything to prevent her from leaving. She lowered her mouth to the nape of his neck. As she kissed and nipped his skin, she felt his pulse quicken. He moaned with desire when she nibbled his ear lobe.

She whispered, "I love you so much. I do not regret one moment that we have shared together. I want you now, but I have to go."

Suddenly, he pulled away as surprise flashed in Serene's eyes. She felt naked without his warmth and embrace. Apparently, this decision was going to ignite a fight between them. He sat up, his long legs extended, as she sat next to him, a look of irritation passed across his features.

She turned to look at him and noticed his face was flushed from desire and anger. Spencer was torn in his heart. He admired and supported her for her independence and determination in regards to her career; yet, he had an ominous feeling that this case would end badly.

"I know that you think this case would advance your career and ease us from our monetary ailments. However, I could care less about money and your career, for it is you that I care most about. I love you! You would be an ocean away, and if you were in trouble, I could not be there."

Her heart felt crushed when he did not speak for five minutes afterwards. His eyes stared forward, glazed with tears and pain. His pain and anxiety emanated from his aura when Serene attempted to reach out to him.

"Oh my darling Spencer, I know that you love me. Please try to understand that I have to do this. I will be leaving in three days. We can celebrate our anniversary early before I leave. Spencer, please say something. I need to hear your voice."

He turned his tanned face towards her, his mouth set in a firm line. His face was stony, yet his eyes brimmed with tears as he opened his mouth and spoke apathetically.

"I am going to bed, and I will speak no more. You have made your decision, and I have no choice but to accept it. I love you, but I am tired."

He rose while Serene grabbed his hands trying to make him stay. Spencer pushed her hands away and traveled upstairs where a cold bed awaited him.

_----Meanwhile in Paris, France---_

A dark room with a tiny barred window held the infamous Phantom of the Opera. The man simply named Erik was wrapped in a straitjacket and a full face black mask that hid his hideous face.

He had overheard Dr. Belier was seeking an assistant, and he found one in an old colleague of his who lived in America with her husband. Many times the masked man could have escaped the hell hole that was the asylum, but there would have been no point. He had no place to call home…no place to go…no one to go to.

Everyone that he had known had abandoned him and gone about their daily lives.

His two glowing gold eyes were the only light in the padded four walled room. He laughed maniacally in the quiet solitude of the room at the irony of his situation. He had given up his fine tailored suits for a white straitjacket. He had given up his fine home filled with riches and books and music for a white washed asylum with the smells of disinfectant and urine and screams of the mentally incapacitated. He had given up hope and love for a life in a place where hope and love was lost.

Yet, he knew he was not crazy. He was as sane as Dr. Jacque Belier and the staff that worked in Belier Sanitarium. Laying his head back on the wall while staring up at the ceiling, Erik knew that residing in the sanitarium was a better solution than to be hanged.

Music swirled into his head as the night passed on within each moment. It was almost unbearable for him to not have his instruments and music, but he was content on writing the songs on various furniture and walls of the asylum. It was the only way for him to express the one good part of him.

In the past three years, he had been questioned by every doctor and policeman in the entirety of Paris about what happened to Christine.

It was the only leverage he had, so of course, he would not tell them anything. Yet, amidst the sanitarium's patients who screamed and sounds of brutalization, Erik formed a plan. He could escape, and the American psychologist would be the key for him to leave.

Beneath the black mask, a smile spread across his malformed lips. His golden eyes twinkled with an evil tint. Ah, yes, it was all coming together.

As the night slowly ebbed away, the masked man's foreboding plan was one day closer to come into effect. It was only a matter of time before anyone would find out what really happened to Christine Daae…only a matter of time…

_---Back in Manhattan, America---_

Spencer lay asleep in the bed; his striking face was peaceful as he slumbered. Serene had sat in a chair next to the bed and just stared at her husband while he slept. She felt horrible for hurting him, but she needed to do this for the both of them.

If that woman, Christine Daae, was alive and she was able to bring her to her family safely, Serene would be content. She was jolted back to reality as her husband's features contorted in his slumber.

He moaned before he awoke from his bad dream. The candlelight was the only illumination in the room, and a soft yellow hue was radiating off his face. He slept often without a shirt and only pajama pants as he did this night.

He turned towards her, half his face covered in darkness while the other was alight from the candles. Serene stood, her nightgown pooled to her feet. He extended his arms as she came forward after blowing out the candles.

She pressed herself against his warm muscular chest as he stroked her back in slow caresses. She buried her head in his chest as he kissed the top of her head while they lay in bed.

"I love you, Spencer, and I do not want us to be upset with each other. God in heaven, I love you. It was because of you I found my voice. You gave me life when I had nothing. You are my heart. I would be nothing without you. Please do not be angry. I would not be able to function if I left with you angry."

Spencer sighed; his hot breath blew over her face, causing her to shiver. He pressed his lips in her hair, breathing in her scent while trying to steel his unsteady nerves.

He extracted her from his arms and stared at her round face, trying to memorize her every feature. She smiled softly, as he closed his eyes in pain.

"Oh, my dear, I could not stay angry with you. It's not you that I am upset with. I am upset with the situation. I have to accept your decision, but I will do so on one condition."

"Name it, Spencer. I will do anything for you."

"I want you to send me a boat ticket as soon as you arrive. Then, I will go to Paris after my theater's open night. I will disembark, and you and I will be together. So, in essence, you will be alone for two weeks before I am able to arrive on France's shore."

He could see her smile before he finished. She nodded ecstatically before kissing him lightly on the lips. After resolving the matter, she fell into a deep sleep. For the rest of the night, Spencer just watched her slumber.

As much as he loved her and as much as he seemed appeased with the decision, he knew in his heart that something about this specific case was wrong; and the more he thought on it, the more troubled he became.

-_--While tensions arose in Serene's home, a certain Persian began to develop anxiety---_

"I cannot explain the anxiety, Darius, but I am getting this solemn feeling something is amiss."

The small Arab boy looked at his master. Nadir Khan, exiled from Persia because of Erik, had developed a comfortable but less lavish life in Paris, France. He had been there in the aftermath of Erik's madness. In fact, it was he who brought the masked man to the asylum.

In the three years since Erik's confinement, the Persian had aged badly. He had dark circles beneath his eyes and his once firm brown skin had begun to fade and develop age spots. His hair had dramatically thinned to the point; Nadir just cut most of it off. He still had the piercing beady brown eyes that was always discerning, a habit from the police force he had not outgrown.

Darius brought him some tea, which Nadir drank in one gulp, ignoring the scorching of his throat while his servant stared at him in obvious worry.

"Sir, do you think it has something to do with _him_? It has been three years and nothing has changed. _He_ has not even tried to escape. In fact, _he_ has not said anything about that girl. What do you think happened to her, if you mind me asking, sir? "

With a dismissive wave of his hand, Nadir elaborated on the feeling he was having. "No, Darius, I cannot explain it. It may well be Erik, but I…I don't know how to explain it better than just a menacing cloud that is hanging over my head. No one knows about the young lady. The only answer lies in Erik's ever complex mind."

His calloused brown hand flexed as he gripped the handle of the cup tighter while Darius stood next to the chair his master was sitting in, the ever obedient servant. He refilled the Persian's cup with more hot tea.

"What are you going to do, master?"

"I am not certain, but I know that I will go see Erik tomorrow. Perhaps that will ease my mind and this feeling I have."

Darius nodded, saying he would take care of the preparations for tomorrow. All the while, he gave his employer a skeptical glance. There was no way that the masked man would ease the Persian's mind; if anything, it will only add to the disquietude the two had had for three years.

Sighing heavily, Darius set to work on getting the master ready for bed…however useless that was, for it was obvious there would be no sleep in the small apartment tonight.

_-----In the Sanitarium----_

_I come up to see you_

_Red, red, red everywhere_

_They tell me you are dead, too_

_In my heart, I realize there's a tear_

_Where you used to reside_

_I am hurting in places I never knew I had_

_If you had died in my arms, perhaps it would not hurt so inside_

_Now I must let you go to the place where there's no bad…_

Erik's voice died away into the stillness of the night while Dr. Belier listened outside his door. The masked man's voice had lured the doctor from his paperwork to the man's room. Was he admitting Christine Daae's death? No, this masked man was a genius, and there was no way he would reveal what happened so easily.

A chilling and haunting voice raised the hairs on the doctor's neck. It was not what he said, but the way the masked man said it in such an apathetic fashion that unsettled him. Never in his decade of practice had a patient unnerved him as much as this man did.

He was an obscure person, having once been known as the Opera Ghost at the Paris Opera House. Leaving in his wake a monumental amount of devastation and murder, this man was more dangerous than Jack the Ripper or those suffering from psychosis.

"Did you enjoy my performance? I daresay _she_ was always entranced by my voice as well. Such a waste, doctor, don't you think…to have a voice to make angels weep and to be in place where voices are only heard in the patients' heads. Do you think that _she_ would be disappointed with the result of poor Erik? _She_ pitied me, true, but in the end, I am the one that pities _her_!"

"What happened to her, Desslar? Did you kill her?"

Dr. Belier had peered into the slot where the meals were served but saw the room was vacant. Where had that dangerous masked man gone?

"What the…"

Suddenly, his face popped in front of the doctor's, inches apart separated by a metal slot in the door. The golden eyes glowed with a dour glare. The doctor jumped back in fright, dropping his eye spectacles in the process.

"BOO! Ha ha, doctor, you seem to have nerves of glass, so easily disturbed. Christine? I do not know what you speak of. She is gone…"

Able to regain his senses, the doctor put on his medical exterior once more. The more he questioned the masked man, the more unnerved he became with each indifferent answer.

"Gone as in dead?"

"Oh, you miserable fool, gone could have several meanings…Why must you think the worst of me, Doctor? What have I ever done to you?"

Again, that maniacal laugh reverberated off the walls of the asylum, igniting the patient's raucous laughter down the hallways. Dr. Belier swallowed the lump in his throat and loosened his tie while he stood up. Having forgotten his spectacles, the doctor stepped on them. The masked man had moved into the corner of the room once more, settling in his usual corner next to the tray of uneaten food.

Leaning his head on the door, Dr. Belier closed his eyes as a migraine began to develop in the back of his head. He had been trying to get the truth out of Desslar for three long years and gotten nowhere.

"Have it your way, Desslar. I must inform you that during the next few sessions, I will have an assistant, Dr. Serene Willows who is a psychologist. She will be analyzing and interviewing you. I expect you to be on your best behavior."

Erik sneered underneath his mask as his used ventriloquism to answer the doctor's absurd statement.

"As you wish, Jacque…" was heard in several different areas as the doctor walked away, a little too quickly…

Erik lay down on the uncomfortable mattress under the barred window, a smile spread across his malformed lips as he reviewed his plan once more. It was a matter of time before he would be free from his personal hell, so he would be able to…Well, he decided it was best not to dwell on the future.

Closing his eyes, he managed to capture a little sleep as dreams now eluded him. The moon soon descended as the night began to ebb away finally into the dawn of a new day.

When Erik awoke a few hours later, he grinned when he remembered his plot to escape. He only felt sorry for those who would be killed for getting in his way. Well, he truly did not feel sorry for the idiots. Too long had he resided in the hell-hole! He had been waiting for a chance like this for three years, and no one would get in the way.

The smile faltered when a vague thought passed through Erik's mind like a lightning bolt striking a tree.

What if that meddling Nadir Khan tries to ruin his plans again?

Erik stood up, now agitated and began to pace the padded room. His arms had fallen asleep from being motionless for a long time. He did not know what to do about the Persian man.

Well, he figured the best way to deal with him was to manipulate Nadir into his plan. What the meddling Arab man did not know or find out, the better off they both would be in the long run.

**Author's note: Well, I decided to end there. Please let me know what you think. First chapters are always pivotal, and I value critiques. Erik…well let me just say things will get interesting quickly! I will try to be better/more diligent in updates. Thanks for reading and Happy Easter! **


	2. Chapter 2 Someone to Hold at Night

_Disclaimer: I absolutely do NOT own, nor do I gain any monetary subsidies, for this fan fiction story. The characters, setting, names belong to the author that created them (Leroux, Kay), BUT the plot is all mine!_

**Author's Note: All right, chapter two begins with a flashback with a little E/C…Otherwise, please read and review. I enjoy each reviewer and his/her comment. I hope that you are ready for this bumpy ride.**

**By the way, this will _ABSOLUTELY NOT_ be an E/OC. I detest those types of stories. There will be elements of E/C like in this chapter. **

_**Chapter Two- Someone to Hold at Night**_

_"Christine, do you mind handing me my violin?"_

_Christine turned to her music maestro who was dressed in his usual attire: black tuxedo and black mask. He had been in a foul mood ever since they started their lesson on _Faust_. The debut of the opera was in two days, and Erik had been working her nearly to the ground. She had not minded because she was doing what she loved: singing._

"_Here is your violin. Erik, can I ask you something?"_

_Two golden eyes glanced back at her inquisitively, glowing in the light of the room. For a moment, she was entranced before she shook her head, the spell gone. He took the violin in his pale hands._

"_Erik, answer me."_

_Erik's gold eyes flickered momentarily before he stood up. His aura was menacing and she involuntarily shrunk back with fright, a habit she wished she could break. Erik was such a mystery, a scary one at that. _

_What frightened her worst than his aura was the silence that usually accompanied it. He never truly told her what was on his mind or what was bothering him until the emotions that had been pent up exploded._

_She returned from her thoughts when he sat down on his armchair, pressing his fingers together in thought while the violin lay in his lap. His yellow eyes flickered once more around the room before they rested on Christine's face eerily._

_Shuddering nervously, she moved to sit down on his couch, his eyes still fastened on her._

_"What is your question?"_

_Christine inwardly trembled from the deep resonant voice that seemed to penetrate into the deepest part of her soul, striking a chord within her. Taking a deep breath to steady her nerves, she knew this was not going to end well…but she had to know._

"_Erik, do you trust me?"_

_His head tilted far to the right, resembling a cockatoo as odd as it appeared. It would have been humorous except for the fact of his menacing gold eyes that slanted as if in anger. Christine began to wring her hands in worry. He was unreasonable when he was mad._

_"That is a loaded question, my dear. Trusting others has never worked well for me. As for you, you know that I love you; but trusting you is a different story. You have been loyal to me, and you will never know how much that means to me. I just cannot trust you. Why do you want to know?"_

"_I wanted to know if you trust me because…because…because it's important to me. You are important to me."_

_His heart swelled within his chest at her praise; that is, until he realized why he could not trust her. She had seen it, too. He had a brief smile before it vanished in a second, so quick had the smile been, she was not sure it had been there in the first place._

_"What's wrong, Erik? What have I done to upset you?"_

"_I do not believe you want to go there, Christine."_

_"Yes, I want to know what I have done!"  
_

"_Don't be ridiculous, Christine. You should know why I am irked!"_

_"No, I don't. In fact, I think that you thrive off my misery. You always are upset with me over trite things…You seem to enjoy it when I am upset."_

_As the words fell from her lips, Christine immediately regretted it. In that moment, Erik's lips pursed tightly together and jaw jutted forth as his gold eyes glowed with rage. He leaped from his chair and hurled the violin into his wall, smashing it to pieces. His breathing was erratic as he glared down at her, the veins starting to protrude in his neck._

_He clenched his fists as he let out a cry of rage before he let out the anger he held in his heart in a booming, livid exclamation only inches from her face._

"_I _**love**_ you, Christine. Look around you! There are gifts here I have bestowed upon you because I _**love**_ you! I shared my home with you…my heart! Your voice alone is forever my declaration of love…And you have the audacity to say _**I**_ thrive off _**your**_ misery! Why accuse me of the very thing _**you**_ are guilty of doing? What about the Viscount Raoul de Chagny? Hmm? Nothing to say, I see…"_

_"You have been spying on me! You said you would stop…You lied to me!"_

_Erik slammed his fists down on the couch on either side of Christine, making her jump. He screamed at her, and she could feel the burn from his fury. She had crossed the line._

"_Damn it, Christine! I have _**never**_ lied to you! If you would stop being so damn cantankerous I will explain how I stumbled upon you and lover boy."_

_Her heart stopped in her throat when she realized why he was so upset. She could say nothing as he dropped to his knees in front of her to stare up in her eyes with an intense fire._

"_I see that I have your attention…I have never lied to you, Christine. I would never intrude upon your trust. Two days ago, I had finished a page of thirty stanzas of Don Juan Triumphant when I needed to go out into the sunlight to retrieve some commodities for my underground home. It takes me a while to prepare for a trip into the light of men, and once I was ready, I ventured out in the early dawn."_

_He paused as he registered the feeling of familiarity in her eyes._

"_I see that you are starting to remember. On any note, I was walking along the roads outside of the Rue Scribe. Of course, I made sure that my face could not be seen…Anyhow, I ambled down the sidewalks, gathering various merchandise when I arrived on La Roux Boulevard. I heard a female laugh…one that I immediately recognized. When I glanced around, I soon found you. You looked stunning in your green dress and your hair cascading in curls. The sun had begun to rise; leaving a soft glow upon your face…I was transfixed. There were few people out, but more were coming out as more sunlight appeared. This is when I saw that…that _**boy**_ come behind you…He touched you…"_

_Christine swallowed the lump in her throat, noticing the way Erik gritted his teeth as he tried to force down the anger and jealousy. **He** was never allowed to touch her, so how dare that insolent viscount do so!_

_Erik closed his eyes and clenched his fists, trying to maintain control of his emotions before he attempted to continue the story. She needed to know…_

"_You laughed genuinely when he whispered something in your ear. I was tempted to rush towards you and end it there, but I then realized that the sun was rising. I could not stay long. Before I turned to leave, I glanced back and saw the two of you…kissing…"_

_Erik turned away, bringing a hand to his masked face as he tried to hide his anguish. He had spent the last forty eight hours attempting to forget what he saw. Unfortunately, the mind has a funny way of remembering only the painful memories._

_Christine sat rigid on the couch while Erik had returned to sitting in his armchair. She was unsure what to do. Deciding it was best, she attempted to explain by being honest. Grasping his cold limp skeletal hand in hers, she gazed into his gold eyes. He made no endeavor to snatch his hand back. Obviously, he wanted to hear what she had to say._

_"Erik, it was never my intention to hurt you. I am so sorry…I did not know how to tell you. I knew that you would not approve of Raoul. Trust me, Erik. Even if I loved him, I could never marry him. He is of noble blood and I-…"_

_Erik cut her off with his other hand raised in the air. The mask with the black eyes gazed back at her as an enigmatic, haunting voice floated around her._

"_It is not him marrying you that I worry about…I do not want you to fall in love with that wretched boy…I love you, and Erik is very selfish. Erik wants you and music, only you and music in his life. He could not survive if you left him. That is what it will soon lead to. You will fall in love with that boy and realize that the only way to marry him is to escape Erik. You will betray your music maestro and…"_

_"I would never do that!" Christine exclaimed defensively._

_Odd as it looked, Christine watched as the anger and rage visibly vanished and a deep despondency settled in its place upon Erik's countenance. Sighing dejectedly, his gold eyes met hers and her heart broke as she noticed tears glazed his eyes._

"_Christine, I do believe that you think you'd never betray me; but sooner or later, you will want to be with the boy and be free from your Erik forever."_

_She dropped to her knees before the masked man, taking his bony hands, forcing eye contact. _

_"Erik, I could never do that to you. You are so special to me. I care deeply for you; you were there when I was at my lowest point. Never would I desert you! You never deserted me, even when I pushed you away. I refuse to let you push me away; it has been far too long for you to be alone."_

_Erik glanced up, a burning fire intensified in his glowing eyes. The feelings within him swirled in such a maelstrom, it took his breath away. He gripped her hands and brought them to his lips, giving them a cold chaste kiss before he stood up. Christine stared at him worried. He turned his back to her, and his shoulders shuddered as he coughed severely._

_"Erik, oh my, you are sick."_

_Steadying himself by placing a hand on the arm of the couch, he shook his masked head._

"_Nay, my dear, I am not ill. It is only the stale air down here; I need some fresh air."_

_All of the sudden he whirled around, his gold eyes glowed with excitement. He came to her with his arms outstretched and palms facing her. Christine awkwardly staggered to her feet. _

_He closed his outstretched arms, almost gathering her in his embrace. Much to her chagrin, he pulled his limbs away. Facing her, he smiled, embarrassed by his sudden boldness. Oh how he loved her!_

"_Christine, would you like to come with me to a cottage I bought outside of Paris. I know it is late, but I know you would love to be out in the sunlight. Erik's dark dungeon is not good for your health."_

_Tears sprang to her eyes as she touched a hand to his black mask. He closed his eyes in ecstasy. Her throat ached as she whispered more to herself than him._

_"Oh, Erik, you always think of me. You never worry about yourself. Yes, I would love to go with you. I can only hope that I will earn your trust as easily as you earned mine."_

_He smiled even wider, and much to her astonishment, Christine found it a rather attractive smile; in fact she loved when he smiled because he only smiled for her, making her feel special. If only he would show it more. He nodded gleefully before retrieving their black cloaks (one being the one he bought especially for her)._

_Christine then determined she would make that night memorable. Her poor music maestro deserved that much. Taking his hand, he and Cesar led her out into the Opera House's catacombs into the morning light._

_---Sanitarium---_

Erik awoke with a jolt from the tender memory, his heart beat rapidly within his chest from the recollection of that night. It was one of few good memories that he had in his life. He wished that Christine was there with him…Perhaps, when he got out of the asylum, he could go see her…

Turning on his side on the cot, he dwelled on every aspect of the dream: her face, her body, her hair, her dress, and just her. How he missed her! There was little doubt in his mind that he would soon escape; he could only wait two more days.

And just like Piangi and Buquet, he would get rid of the American psychologist the same way once she served her purpose. Before he had been arrested, he had stored his Punjab lasso in the floorboard of Nadir's room. Of course, the Persian man had not the knowledge of the incident.

Erik lay his head back down, wondering what Christine would think of him now. Hope is a feeling for the people who feel there's no faith left in the world or its people. So, Erik hoped…

_---Manhattan---_

Serene and her husband had made love for most of the night and morning of that day. He could not get enough of her, and she yearned for him to make love to her more with each lovemaking occurrence. She watched him sleep, his bronze chest rising and falling with each breath.

His flawless face had a peaceful quality while his arms sat motionless on the bed. She drew closer to his form, and touched his face with her fingertips. Groaning softly, his hazel eyes opened as he surveyed his surroundings before he smiled that gorgeous smile at her.

He sat up; the blankets fell, exposing his muscular yet agile body. She sat up next to him, smiling more and more as he stared at her. The covers fell from her form, and her husband closed his eyes as he moaned, aroused by the sight.

"I thought I had been dreaming…I am glad that it was real."

Trailing her fingers up his arm, her green eyes looked into his.

"You can always make love to me whenever you want."

He grinned mischievously before he pushed her on her back while she giggled with glee. He tickled her sides until she begged him to stop.

"Spencer, please!"

"What, my angel, do you want from me?"

"I want you!"

"Your wish is my command." 

Lowering his head, he brought her lips to his. He crushed her with his body, and she moaned when she felt his desire.

"Oh, Spencer, I…oh…have to….oh…get ready…"

Spencer began to kiss her face, relishing the way she writhed beneath him. He stopped and laid his arms on either side of her head to keep him steady while he spoke to her.

"I know you have to get ready, but it is our anniversary that you will be missing. I believe you owe me…Besides, you may say no, but your body is saying yes; and I am in agreement with your body on this one."

Serene hugged his body to hers, telling him how much she loved him.

"I know I want you to make love to me, but I have to get some things for my trip to France. I want to blend in with the populace there!"

Her husband groaned as he rose, and Serene sensed his anxiety rear its head again. She pulled out of bed, following his suit. They both put on robes before the servants came in to clean the couple's room.

The two never enjoyed having servants, especially for Spencer. He had been a servant to Serene's father, and had suffered greatly for it. They both agreed that they would have as few maids as possible, and the couple would help the servants with the daily chores.

Spencer headed downstairs, suddenly hungry. (Albeit, he thought it was due to him trying to forget his wife was leaving).

Sitting down at the oak table, he began to eat the breakfast food the butler had laid out for them. Serene, concerned, went over to her husband's side and began to kiss the back of his neck. Spencer closed his eyes, fighting the urge to turn around and make love to her on the dining table.

The servants had moved to cleaning the dining room, and Serene tried to alleviate her husband's unease by placing her hand on his inner thigh and stroking up and down. He continued to eat his eggs before he slammed down the fork on the table and stood up angrily.

"Out now!"

The servants, startled to hear the master yell for the first time, quickly abandoned the room to leave the married couple alone.

Serene moved a step back while Spencer stood for a moment, breathing deeply through his nostrils while trying to get control of himself. When he spoke, his voice was bitter and vexed while his body was on fire. He loved her, but he could not keep silent.

"Serene, you know that if I was not mortal and needed food and drink, I would make love to you all day, but I cannot deal with this. You are going to another country where I cannot be, for Christ's sake! If some man or, God forbid, men tried to take advantage of you, I could not be there to protect you! We have dealt with more gossip and slander in the past year by marrying, so why would you put yourself in a situation that would lead to more slander! A married woman that works in a city all alone without her husband has scandal all over it. I cannot bear the thought of not sleeping next to you, of not touching you everyday, of not waking up next to you every morning…I almost lost you once to that vile murderer, Frank Kinsey. I have done some research on this Erik Desslar, and he is even more dangerous than Kinsey. Something is not right about this trip. This patient…this man will only try to use you…He may be crazy, but he is a genius. Geniuses always try to escape."

"He's mentally incapacitated, honey."

"Exactly, I do not want you near him unless I can be there in the session…at least one time. That would make me feel better about this entire situation."

"I promise that I will not see him until you arrive, darling. Okay? I love you, and I promise to be super careful. Please do not be ill-tempered. I love my gentle husband. Besides, I need your help with learning how to wear a corset."

Her smile melted the ice around his heart, and Spencer nodded, although begrudgingly. He would pretend to be fine with it for her sake. He knew how important this was to her, and he did not want to be the one that ruined it for her.

She kissed him before setting off to buy the outfits that the local dressmaker had created for her. The old woman was born and trained in Rouen, France. She had moved to America three years ago and had made beautiful dresses for Serene since she was sixteen.

Spencer, meanwhile, met with a detective that had moved to Manhattan from Paris. He had done the initial investigation on Desslar until the masked man had been locked away in an asylum.

They met for brunch at the local café down Brunswick Lane while Detective Loamier brought paperwork from the investigation to the meeting.

"If I were you, Willows, I would keep my wife as far away from the masked man as possible. Not only is he dangerous, he is manipulative. He can use his voice and make people do what he wants them to do without even opening his mouth. He has murdered three people in cold blood while taking advantage of Meg Giry and Madame Giry. He almost killed his friend, a fellow policeman who tracked him down. He killed Philippe de Chagny, the patron to the theater and nearly suffocated his brother Raoul. Here is the current address of Vicomte Raoul de Chagny; he lives in London now. This masked man wears a mask to hide his hideously deformed face. He may be mad but he is a mastermind: he is an architect, musician, magician, composer…master of the arts, really. Keep Serene away from him"

"She promised to stay away from him until I arrive."

"Good, because that is the only chance that you have…Erik Desslar is not a man to cross paths with when he wants something. He supposedly killed three people, used his voice to control minds, and committed crimes all in the name of the woman he wanted: Christine Daae. There is no telling how far he will go given a second chance…"

Spencer sat back while Loamier puffed a large cigar and blew smoke in the face of the younger man. Instead of being comforted, Spencer felt worse than before. He was not sure, but he would keep his wife from the maniac, even if it killed him in the process.

_---Nadir's Apartment---_

"Sir, a postal man has brought this letter addressed to you by the Belier Insane Asylum. It is addressed with the word URGENT written on it."

Handing the letter to the elder Persian, Nadir glanced at it while his heart beat pulsed thunderously in his head. This was not good. The envelope had Dr. Belier's handwriting on it. When Nadir opened it, he read it quietly to himself.

"_To: Nadir Khan,_

_You are the man entrusted with the care and treatment of anything in regards to Erik Desslar. I must inform you that I will need to take on an assistant, and have received confirmation. Dr. Willows is equipped to psychoanalyze this man and she will arrive soon to assist me with your Erik's case. It is imperative that you give assent to this addition to the case. I hope that you can meet with me. I have an opening the 5th of May 1898 at the Bireme Café around ten in the morning. I hope that you will attend; it is necessary for the care of your friend. I have a session with Desslar tomorrow as well. I was hoping that you'd attend, and then he'd be more inclined to speak with you there. Yet, I understand if you cannot. We can discuss it tomorrow._

_Cordially,_

_Dr. Belier"_

Nadir tossed the letter on the table, and prayed to Allah for the strength he needed. In the three years, he had seen Erik twice and that was enough for him. The masked man had nearly succeeded in killing him a dozen times.

He had seen Erik in his worst moments and the worst had to be when Erik first arrived at the sanitarium. The former detective was worried…If this woman psychologist was to help the doctor with Erik, there was no telling what Erik would do to her or use her to escape. Allah help them all.

Darius looked at his master inquiringly before he went back to work, leaving Nadir sitting in his chair. The latter was suffering from a myriad of emotions that conflicted with each other. Should he help the doctor with Erik?

Eventually, his conscience won, and he decided to meet with the doctor. He needed some strong drinks before he did so, however. He hoped that Erik would not ensnare this woman and kill her to get what he wants. Yet, he knew that Erik would soon escape: he was making more and more attempts to be social. That could only mean one thing…

**A/N: Here is chapter two with mostly E/C. I usually start out slow and then jump into action. The next chapter will be more E/C flashbacks, possibly two. Please R&R! I heart my reviewers! **

© Copyright 2007


	3. Chapter 3 Alone is He Who Loves

_Disclaimer: I absolutely do NOT own, nor do I gain any monetary subsidies, for this fan fiction story. The characters, setting, names belong to the author that created them (Leroux, Kay), BUT the plot is all mine!_

**Author's Note: Chapter three is a filler until Dr. Willows arrives to psychoanalyze Erik to get answers. In this chapter, Nadir meets with the Doctor, Erik dreams about Christine again and shares another memory, Serene and Spencer disagree, and a surprising visitor stuns Spencer when Serene leaves.**

**Thanks for reviewing and reading!**

_**Chapter Three- Alone is He Who Loves**_

Spencer did not get home until nearly eleven at night, and he was anxious about Serene's impending trip to Paris. When he got inside his house, the servant Annabelle approached him. Unfortunately, Spencer was too preoccupied by his thoughts he failed to heed the strong smell of alcohol on Annabelle's breath.

"Hello, master."

She drunkenly threw him into the door, whispering huskily with alcohol and lust, "I need you to sleep with me."

Spencer tried to push her away but she shoved him back and tried to kiss him. He pushed her hands away as she tried to grab him again.

"Stop it, Annabelle. I command you to go to bed." 

"Only if you come to bed with me!" 

She giggled with drunken glee while Spencer's agitation reached its peak. Luckily, the butler arrived in time to drag a drunken Annabelle back to her room for the night. Spencer let out a heavy sigh when he noticed shadows dancing in the candle light across the hall upstairs.

He made his way upstairs in search for his wife and found her asleep on the library divan with a book in her hands. Smiling, he retrieved the book, making sure to mark her place, and place it on the desk.

He picked her up in his arms and carried her to their bedroom. She moaned and drew closer into his warmth while desire flooded through him. How was he to survive without her next to him for the next few weeks?

---_Sanitarium_---

For the first time since he arrived in the sanitarium, Erik was in misery with memories of Christine. Of course he thought about her everyday, but images of her face, her body, her smile flooded his mind every moment of every second of every day.

It was all he could do to not slam his head into the walls with cries of rage. The doctor had not come for him yet. Listening to the dim-witted orderlies that patrolled the halls, he had learned that Dr. Belier was meeting with Nadir Khan.

'Damn that infernal Persian!' Erik thought to himself. Supposedly, the doctor was discussing new treatments for the masked man much to Erik's chagrin. He had no doubt that the doctor was having a delightful brunch with the foreigner at a quaint little café at the end of the block at that moment.

Adjusting his arms as much as he could in the white jacket, he walked over to the small barred window and stared at the city full of people out and about. Sighing, he sat down on the cot. Moving slightly to the right, he slipped out of the jacket and tossed it to the floor.

Most of the orderlies were asleep at that particular time in the morning; Erik used this break to meditate, compose, or write in a journal that he had taken from one of the idiotic employees earlier that month.

Standing to the far wall, he pulled out a tile from the floor to retrieve the blue journal that was slightly worn with music and ponderings. He also retrieved a pen that he had absconded from Dr. Belier's office in one of their numerous sittings.

Fiddling with the mask to make him more comfortable, Erik set to work writing down a good memory/dream of Christine less he should forget.

_He had helped Christine sit on Cesar before he got on the horse himself. His head spun with dizziness as her scent flooded his entire being. He wrapped an arm around her lithe waist, holding her closer to him. To his surprise, she covered his arm with hers, laying her head on his chest with closed eyes._

_Erik closed his gold eyes in utter ecstasy, trying to steel his nerves. He knew that she could feel his heart beating thunderously in his rib cage. With his other free hand holding the reins, he nudged Cesar to move. He began to trot down the country lanes outside of Paris that headed to his cottage._

_Along the way to the home, he and Christine shared small talk to pass the time while Cesar eased onwards. Erik was thrilled when Christine pulled him closer to her body. He was on fire as the mask making him feel like he was about to melt._

"_Erik, I want you to be happy. Are you happy?"_

_Erik swallowed uncomfortably. He never liked when she questioned him about his feelings or past. He sighed before he carefully answered, knowing he was dodging the question altogether._

"_I am happy whenever you are around me, Christine. That is enough for me. Here let us stop. There is a tree that sits atop over a lookout that is stunning. I have brought a picnic lunch for us. Let us sit and enjoy the view in the tree's shade."_

_He helped her get down from the horse while she remained unusually silent. Taking her small hand in his skeletal one, he led her to his safe spot that he used to get away from the opera house on occasion._

_Setting a blanket under the tree, he worked to place the array of food and settings for the two. Out of the corner of his eye, Erik took notice that Christine was staring out into the beautiful landscape of Paris's countryside with a forlorn expression._

"_Christine, I am finished. Please sit down and have something to eat. Let us enjoy ourselves before we have to return to the Populaire and work on Faust."_

_She turned to him with a smile so fake that Erik could have laughed at the childish expression had it not struck a chord within him. She sat down and quietly thanked him for the wine._

_She took a small sip before setting the glass down, the desolate look returned. Erik leaned back against the tree ever her resolute protector._

"_Christine, tell me what is the matter?"_

_Christine turned her beautiful blue doe eyes to her guardian before she opened up her heart to him._

"_Erik, you have been my anchor and shield. You have always been there for me. I trust you with my life, but I feel like there's a wall between us…a wall that I cannot surpass. Please, there is only one way I can prove to you that trusting me is not in vain. Please, Erik, please open up to me. I want to know what you feel…what you think…what you desire."_

_Erik's immediate answer would have been "You," but he settled himself down on the blanket, leaning an arm on his knee while his masked face regarded her for a moment._

"_I am afraid, my dear, that I am rather ignorant in the ways of communicating with mankind. I feel your frustration, but my 'wall' is there to keep me safe. It's been too many times I have been hurt by man. I am not allowed to feel or act as mankind regularly does. I am not entitled to love or kindness."_

"_Why not! You are kind and gentle…What you do, you do from the heart. All you do comes from the purest of intentions. You are a man, and are entitled to as much as any other man."_

"_You are far too kind, Christine, but I am afraid you overestimate me. I am not as pure or gentle as you think me be. I will try to tear the wall down that is between us. However, I also feel you should return the favor. Tell me what is on your mind."_

_Christine smiled gently, and carefully shifted to the side on the blanket. Taking another sip of wine, she spoke softly, "I was through with rehearsal and went with Madame Giry and Meg to a café down the street. While we were enjoying a nice meal, the Chagny family walked into the restaurant. Raoul saw me and rushed over to our table. He asked me to the upcoming ball…Erik, I did not know what to say…"_

_Erik stifled a groan and thanked the stars that she could not see the look that was on his face. He doubted if he could keep it together as she continued her story about the blasted boy._

"_Erik, I know you hate him, but he is really a gentleman. He is kind and honest…"_

"_Please, Christine, I do not need to hear the boy's merits…Continue your tale without such 'pleasantries.' I wish to hear what is irksome to _**you**_."_

"_I am conflicted; I want to go with Raoul, but I know that he would suffer scandal if I do. People would talk of why a rich, handsome viscount would be with a common ballet rat…"_

"_I don't want to hear you ever call yourself that! Ever! Do you understand?"_

_Christine shrunk back, and nodded at his outburst. His eyes flickered as he realized what he did, and he sighed heavily._

"_I am sorry, my dear. I tend to react before I think about what I do. It is a bad habit. I apologize. I understand your dilemma…It is your choice; I cannot dictate what you do."_

"_Oh, Erik, you are my guardian! I would be lost without you in my life. I wish you would go to the ball. I would feel more at ease with you by my side."_

_His heart felt so full of love and hope, it felt like it would burst. However, when he recognized the full reality of the situation, his heart soon deflated. She noticed his downcast eyes._

"_I am dreadfully sorry, my dear; I will not be able to attend the ball with you. I would love to have attended with you. I just could not deal with the stares and gawks of the asinine public who would not know true beauty even if it slapped them in the face."_

_He took an awkward sip of wine as Christine nodded solemnly. She spoke softly; her tender voice soothed his agitation._

"_Yes, I understand perfectly, maestro. I know your anxiety. You know me, right?"_

_Underneath the mask, Erik's eyebrows rose in question as he started to answer, "Well, I have known you since you were twelve…so approximately seven years we have been acquainted. I suppose I do, in fact, know you."_

_She smiled a devastating attractive smile before she continued, "Yes, you know me. You know what drives me, what makes me upset or happy; you know why I do some of the things I do. I, however, know nothing about you. Will you please let me in?"_

_Erik sighed with an aggravation within his deep, beautiful voice. "Oh, Christine, you do not know what you ask of me! I have not let you in because you are far too pure for Erik's dark world. He is not a good man."_

_Christine vehemently shook her head, grasping his hand. She felt his body shudder as he brought his hand to cover his masked face._

"_Please, Erik, talk to me. You are a good man. I know that much about you. You are a good person."_

"_No, I am not, Christine! You know nothing of my past or what I have done!"_

"_Then tell me! Look, Erik, your discretion is a result of your inability to trust me."_

"_Oh, Christine, I would give you anything you ask."_

_Her eyes glinted with light as an idea registered within her. She scooted closer to Erik, whose back still lay on the tree. He closed his eyes as her scent flooded him all at once, and Christine held his hand in hers._

"_If what you say is true, then I have something that could prove my trust for you. I need you to do something for me. Show me your face. I will prove to you that I will not leave you."_

_His eyes snapped open, the blissful moment immediately gone. He withdrew his hand from hers and shot up from the ground. Beneath the mask, his face was flushed as both panic and anger rose up inside him in a violent maelstrom._

_Hurt flashed in her eyes as he pulled away, covering his masked face with his gloved hands in anguish._

"_No, no, no, Christine, anything…ANYTHING but THAT! Jewels…name how many. Songs…I'll write you a symphony. Fine clothes…I will replace your wardrobe. Books…I'll provide a library. Anything but removing my mask, for I can't…I can't give you that. Erik cannot and will not do it, not even for you…"_

_With his back turned, he buried his masked face in his hands, stifling the tears and fury within his heart. Suddenly, he felt a small hand on his shoulder. Christine felt all his muscles tense instantly at her touch. For some odd reason, a thrill shot through her body that the thought of her having such a profound effect on her music teacher._

"_Maestro, I am sorry…I should not have asked you to take off your mask…It was forward of me; I apologize."_

_Turning around, he gathered Christine in his arms, elated to hear her sigh and melt in his embrace._

"_There is nothing to apologize for, Christine. You are always forgiven…always…"_

Erik put down the pen and journal back into its furtive position when he heard the attendants bustling about. Tears began to leak down his cheeks and out of the eye holes of his mask.

He slowly pulled the straitjacket back on to project another mask: that he was criminally insane. Deep within his heart, he knew that what happened to Christine was not his fault…He had never meant to do it…

----Meeting at Café Galois----

"Good morning, monsieur Khan. I trust that you are well." The congenial doctor spoke as the Persian man sat down. His servant stood next to his master, ready to protect him.

The daroga's appearance had improved over the years after Erik's institutionalization. His eyes still held a calm wise light beneath those bushy black eyebrows, and he took a sip of coffee as he beheld the doctor.

"I am well, but there is a reason that you speak with me. It is about the masked man. Pray tell; what is it that you want me to approve?"

The gray-haired doctor leisurely lay back as he surveyed the foreigner. Taking a puff from his cigar, he let it out in Nadir's face. Darius instinctively moved closer to his master.

"Well, I suppose you are not one for small talk, so I shall get to the point. I need you to approve another doctor to Desslar's case. She is a profound doctor of psychoanalysis. This may be what we need to find out what he did to Christine Daae."

Red flags immediately went up in his head. "No, he should not be around any women. He can easily manipulate women into doing his bidding. He will use her to escape and then only Allah knows what he will do to her. If you bring her into this, I guarantee, doctor she will die."

With a wave of his hand, Belier dismissed the entreaties.

"I can assure you, Monsieur Khan, that Dr. Willows is a strong woman who has overcome stronger adversity in her life. She will not succumb to Desslar's tricks. If you wish, I can arrange for you to speak with the masked man. In fact, you can attend the sessions with Dr. Willows if you so please."

The dark-skinned man contemplated this as Darius put a young brown hand on his shoulder.

"Master, I do not think it is wise for you to see the trap-door lover. He almost killed you three years ago. There is no telling what he will do now. Please, master, I beg you not to go."

The older Persian put a comforting hand on Darius's as he looked at the doctor with suspicious eyes.

"I know that you have an agenda, Dr. Belier, but I am apprehensive about this. I do not think this is a good idea, but I will meet with Erik. Set it up and I will be there. Good day, doctor. Be wary of the masked man, and whatever you do…do not underestimate him. That was the downfall of those who dared crossed his path."

Darius's face fell with worry and disappointment but handed his master his hat before they left the café. The doctor sat back, satisfied with himself. Yet, he could not shake off the uneasiness that filled his heart.

_----Manhattan House----_

Serene laid down her luggage by the front door as she prepared to say good bye and leave her household. The servants lined in front of the staircase, prepared to say goodbye to their mistress and bid her a safe journey.

Spencer had yet to come down. Anguished by not seeing him all day, she prayed he would put any animosity aside and would say farewell to her. Her prayers were answered when he descended the steps. They both had serendipitously dressed similarly, and both said nothing while he moved closer to her.

Serene wore an emerald gown that flowed down to the floor while she squirmed uncomfortably from the camisole and corset. Her long hair was pulled into a simple bun, as two strands of hair framed her circular face. Probing green eyes regarded her husband's odd behavior.

Staring into her eyes, his face revealed no emotion, but his eyes were glazed over with so much love. He dressed in a deep jade green suit with a silver vest and a white shirt. His golden hair was slicked back and hazel eyes blazed with concern.

With a wave of his hand, the servants left at his dismissal. Once they were alone, they walked towards the library where they would be alone and where their words would be heard between only them.

As they sat down in the arm chairs that faced each other, they both felt apprehension about what would be said. Spencer was the first one brave enough to speak his heart again.

"I met with Detective Loamier and he warned me to keep you as far away from the masked man as possible. I am begging you…as my wife, as my best friend, as my heart; please do not go. If something happened to you, I would blame myself."

Serene closed her eyes in pain, responding, "I know you are worried about me, but I am going no matter what you say. Besides, you will meet me two weeks after I arrive. You have nothing to worry about."

"I have everything to worry about: you! This masked man is not just dangerous, he's lethal! For God's sake, he is a murderer!"

Serene got up and kissed her husband, who tensed with uncertainty. Spencer's mind became confused as she got up and left the room. Following her, he saw her pick up her stand by the front door as the chauffer took her luggage to the awaiting carriage. Putting on her gloves and hat, she looked at her husband with an air of indifference which tore his heart into pieces.

"I am not going to fight with you, Spencer. We have already fought this fight, and I told you that I am going regardless of what you say. I love you and will see you in two or three weeks. Farewell my love."

With that said, she left as her husband was left standing dumbfounded in the middle of the dining room.

_----The next morning----_

After a restless night, Spencer gave up hope of sleep and traveled to the library where he read Homer's _The Iliad_. Around dawn, he had finally drifted to sleep when the butler, Harmon, awoke him with news that an unknown man was asking to see him.

Spencer nodded his approval to let the butler show the guest in while he tried to grasp who would want to meet with him at four in the morning. With red eyes, he staggered into the living room as Harmon showed the man in the room.

The man was youthful, yet premature signs of age began to appear on his face. He had piercing blue eyes and wavy golden hair. There was a thin moustache on his face and he stood approximately six feet tall.

Spencer rose and shook the man's hand congenially and offered him a seat. He also gave the man a cup of brandy before he sat down as well.

"Hello, I welcome you to my home. I am sorry but I do not recognize you. Do I know you?"

The man smiled a handsome grin before shaking his head in the negative.

"No, I am afraid that you do not know me. I am Vicomte Raoul de Chagny, and I have traveled far to meet you. I was informed by a source under my employment that works at the Belier Sanitarium. He informed me that Dr. Belier is going to bring a woman to the masked man's case."

Spencer sucked in a painful breath while nodding.

"After much prodding, I found the name to be Dr. Serene Willows. I paid Detective Loamier to track down and find everything about this woman. He told me of her plans and where she lived. I was living in a family owned mansion outside of London, England. Once I got the information, I sailed as fast as I could to stop her from going."

Putting his head in his hands, Spencer mournfully spoke, "She's already left. She sailed towards Paris yesterday. I have tickets for the next ship, but I will not arrive for the next two weeks. I tried to stop her, but she was determined to go. I made her promise me that she will not have even one session with Erik Desslar until I arrived."

Raoul sighed heavily, but nodded as he acknowledged that this was good news as well. He smoothed the wrinkles out of his Italian brown suit before he spoke, carefully choosing his words.

"I believe that as long as she stays away from Desslar, the safer she will be. I cannot go with you, for my time with that crazed masked man has only caused me strife. He murdered my brother…my best friend. He tried to take my fiancé away because he was mad. He killed Buquet and Piangi for no justifiable reason. He almost succeeded in killing me and the Persian man. However, I will give you some information that you can use. Here is the Persian man's information; he will help you keep your wife safe. I cannot stress this enough. Get your wife the hell away from Erik. He will kill her if you do not."

Spencer cocked his head to the side as he assessed and processed everything the young man said. In reality, he was two to three years older than the twenty four year old Vicomte.

"I intend to take her back home once I arrive. I have a bad feeling about this man. You say he was obsessed with your fiancé. I presume she was Christine Daae, the famous opera singer."

Tears glazed the young man's eyes as he nodded with heartache. Spencer folded his hands in his lap as he questioned further.

"Do you know what happened to Christine Daae? Can you tell me the whole story?"

Raoul de Chagny shuddered inwardly as his heart and mind screamed and relived the whole ordeal. This was going to be a long day… However, whatever he could do to prevent more deaths at the crazy masked man's hands, he would do it.

"What I know will only add to your worries, but it is imperative that you hear what I know."

The older man listened to the entire sad tale of love, betrayal, and madness. At the end of the story, Raoul also told him about the mysterious disappearance of his fiancé two weeks before their wedding. He had not removed the ring from his finger, and he determined that he will never love another as he loved Christine. Spencer determined he would keep his wife from the masked murderer.

"Do you know what happened to Christine, Vicomte?"

"I have some idea. Here is what I know…"

**Author's Note: I apologize for not updating sooner. I am busy with relatives, home re-decorating, and graduation. Hopefully, this chapter was to your liking. Let me know what you think. The next chapter will be more eventful. Erik recalls more memories, Serene ends up meeting Erik accidentally, and Nadir Khan's suspicions arise even more.**

© Copyright 2007


	4. Chapter 4 Accidental Meetings

_Disclaimer: I absolutely do NOT own, nor do I gain any monetary subsidies, for this fan fiction story. The characters, setting, names belong to the author that created them (Leroux, Kay), BUT the plot is all mine!_

**Author's Note: The surprise for the next chapter is it's an ALL ERIK chapter (definitely with Christine/Erik moments)! In this chapter, Erik recalls more memories, Serene meets Erik accidentally, and Nadir Khan's shares his history with Erik.**

**I hope you enjoy this chapter! Please R&R!**

_**Chapter Four- Accidental Meetings**_

Serene stepped off the boat with a sigh. As much as she was excited being in Paris, she was miserable in her heart. Feeling guilty over the way she left her husband, she resolved to write him a long letter of apology as soon as she was settled.

She had dressed in a blue dress with lace and had a long black coat lined with velvet on one arm. Her luggage was already packed on a stagecoach and she got in with some difficulty due to the corset.

The driver asked her where she was going in French, and she was glad that her father had made her take French when she was young. She responded, "I need to go to the Belier Sanitarium, but I need my luggage to be brought to Room #34 at the Riverside Inn. I will pay you extra for your trouble."

The driver nodded gruffly before slapping the reins, making the horses start and move the carriage. Sitting back, Serene silently wished that Desslar would be an easy case, but deep down she knew that this was not going to be so.

_----Erik at the sanitarium----_

Erik was fidgety because this was the day his plan to escape would begin. Sitting on his cot, he worked the white straitjacket off to retrieve his journal. Once he made sure the attendants were either passed out or drunk, he settled himself on the cot made of rough straw covered with a sheet and blanket.

With a skeletal white hand of long musical fingers, he flipped to a blank page and began writing yet another past memory of Christine. However, unlike the last entry, this memory was not a fond one.

_Darkness…That was all I can remember on January 6, 1899. I had struggled through another bout of anger. Don Juan Triumphant is almost finished, and I desperately want to live life like a normal man. When I had a semblance of hope that Christine would understand and give me my dream, she does something to decimate all of my hope. _

_I spent most of that morning cleaning my underground home to get rid of pests like spiders and rats because I know Christine is frightened of such nuisances. I do not care one way or the other about those irritants, but I am helpless when it comes to her happiness. _

_The opera __**Merchant of Venice**__ was due to debut within the next three days, so strenuous rehearsals were currently underway above in the Paris Opera House. Christine, no doubt, was unveiling her beautiful voice to the Opera House, a gift he had perfected over the past two weeks. She had become even more withdrawn, which only confirmed my belief that she was hiding something from me. I was determined to discover her secret at whatever cost, even sacrificing my own sanity._

_Today was Christine's 18__th__ birthday, and I had spent that entire week planning and preparing a wonderful feast and getting gifts for her. I had dressed in a black pinstripe suit with a black shirt and tie for the occasion. As usual, I put on my black porcelain mask to match my clothes._

_Before I set out to watch the rehearsals, the lake siren went off. Sighing angrily, I stalked off to find the idiot who dared to try and cross the lake while I was in a foul mood. _

_Putting on my black velvet cloak, I put the Punjab lasso in one of the cloak's many folds, and stepped out of my house. The lake was placid, with the usual peculiar fog swirling above the surface. It was the perfect cover…_

"_Erik! We need to talk! It is urgent!"_

_Lifting my blazing golden eyes to the opposite shore, I knew that the person could see two gold orbs penetrating the misty fog. Recognizing the voice, I got on my boat, and slowly rowed to the source of the voice on the other shoreline._

_When I leisurely stepped on solid ground, I glared at the Persian who stood defiantly in my way. I could tell by the look on his face that he was going to lecture me on being a part of mankind that I was not entitled to be a part of anyhow. _

"_Erik, we need to discuss your relationship with the young girl."_

_Gritting my teeth, there was an admonition of warning in my voice as I replied, "Watch where you tread, Khan. You are tottering on thin ice by speaking about Christine. You've no idea about our relationship, and I intend to keep it that way."_

"_Tell me you're not holding her here against her will, Erik."_

_"Oh, you tedious fool; she comes here on her own choice. I do not make her do anything! Now if you would kindly step out of my way, I have some business to tend to."_

"_Promise me, Erik that she is safe with you. Give me your word that you will not kill anyone else!"_

_Before I left the foreign man, I spoke calmly with an ominous undertone, "Khan, you know that oaths are made to catch gulls with, and I am no man's fool. I can say this. She will not be harmed…as far as any other person…I make no promises. I bid you farewell, my dear friend."_

_As I began to walk down the dark catacombs, Nadir said something that unnerved me._

"_Erik, you are losing yourself in the girl. She will be the end of you if you do not stop."_

_When I turned around to question what he meant by that statement, he was gone. The only thought I had was, "Damn you, Khan."_

Erik shut his journal as he heard the night attendants outside bustling about, knowing that they were changing shifts with the day attendants. Sighing, he placed the blue journal back into its place before putting on the white straitjacket.

He hoped that he would not have to keep this charade up for long…Suddenly, his door opened and Dr. Belier appeared. Dressed in brown pants and blue shirt with a white doctor's coat, he entered the room. He pulled out his stethoscope, much to the masked man's chagrin, and moved to place it upon him.

Erik wrenched away, and that bloody doctor smiled with amusement. Pulling a chair in front of the bed, he sat down to face the masked man. Tapping his watch, the gray haired man smiled congenially, which only made Erik want to wring his bloody neck.

"My dear Desslar, we will not have our usual session today…"

"Thank God!" Erik interjected.

"Anyhow, I have a surprise guest who wishes to speak to you…"

"Is it the doctor of psychoanalysis?"

Erik's hope was dashed when the familiar face of the Persian came into the room, and Erik groaned with irritation. The masked man took notice of the way he had aged severely since they last parted ways. He had shaved his head, but Erik noticed areas where he was going bald.

Yet, his bushy eyebrows and black eyes ever observing, proved that he was still the same man as he was three years ago. Rolling his eyes in annoyance, Erik mockingly asked, "Are you truly concerned for me, Nadir? What have I done to earn a visit from you after all this time?"

Pulling a seat next to Dr. Belier, the dark-skinned man sat down. Sighing, he folded his brown hands in his lap before he even passed a look in his old friend's direction.

"Nice to see you, too, Erik. It has been a while since we last saw each other."

"You mean before you had me committed to this hellhole…"

"It is not surprising to see that you have not changed. I am here to tell you do not even think about trying to manipulate Dr. Serene Willows, for I will be attending each session she has with you."

The masked man's eyes twinkled with amusement and rancor before he twisted his arms in the straitjacket to wake them up.

"How very noble of you, Nadir! It is good to know that you will be the doctor's bodyguard. I assure you I have no intention of hurting the woman…Why must you think the worst of me, Khan?"

Nadir chose to ignore his resentfully sarcastic remarks and simply shake his head.

"I am not going to argue with you, Erik. All we need to know is what you did to Christine Daae. Did you kill her? If you are innocent, then you should not be here!"

Sitting back, Erik chuckled darkly before speaking with venom.

"Tsk, tsk, Khan, your interrogation skills have atrophied since your detective investigation time in Persia. You should work on that if you are to find out what happened to Christine. You were the one that led the boy to kill me. You and he tried to murder me and yet you both get to be set free; and I, where there's no proof I had committed any foul play, am currently locked up in an insane asylum. Tell me, Nadir, where is the justice in that?"

Nadir shook his head and was about to reply when an orderly interrupted the session.

"Monsieur, Dr. Willows has just arrived. She would like to speak with both you and Inspector Khan."

Dr. Belier dismissed him with a wave of his hand before standing, Nadir following suit.

"Well, Patient Desslar, we must take our leave. We will be discussing your case with your new doctor. Try to stay out of trouble or you go back to the shock room…"

The two left as Erik rolled his eyes. It was only a matter of time before he would settle the score with the owner of the asylum. He lay down on the cot, ignoring the tray of food on the floor that was no doubt laced with laudanum.

He was no fool; he could smell the putrid odor from six meters away. Besides, he just lost his appetite…

----Dr. Belier's Office----

Serene was shaking with fear and excitement as the two men entered, and when she saw her old colleague greet her, she was somewhat relieved. Jacque Belier, with his gray hair and pale hairy square face with cleft chin, had not truly aged since they lost saw each other. He smiled his signature grin full of crooked teeth before he offered her one of two seats in front of his desk.

Taking a seat, she was surprised when a foreign man of Middle Eastern descent took the seat next to her. She noticed he adjusted the turban on his bald head before he settled his eyes on her.

Shifting uncomfortably under his scrutinizing gaze, she glanced at Dr. Belier, who was oblivious of the tension. He, too, sat down in his large brown chair and folded his hands atop the desk while looking at the two.

"Serene, I would like to introduce you to Nadir Khan. He is the caretaker of the patient Erik Desslar's treatment. He can give you more insight to the masked man's character than I. I will show you your temporary office and brief you on everything after you talk with him. I have some business matters to attend to."

Standing up he walked his awkward gambol out the door while Serene coughed with discomfort as she was left in an unnerving situation with a stranger. The man named Nadir stood and sat in Jacque's desk before he rested his hands on the smooth surface of the wood in the same manner as the doctor.

His voice was a quiet deep tenor yet held years of wisdom beneath it. Gazing at her with suspicious eyes, he began his interrogation. So apt was he in interrogation, she was almost left with the impression that she was having a light-hearted conversation with an old friend…almost…

"I assume that you are Dr. Serene Willows."

She nodded.

"I also assume that you know about the infamous Phantom of the Opera."

"Yes, it was in the papers for months."

"Is that why you wanted this case? Did you want fame? Did you think that this would be your chance at being famous? I heard that you Americans are stubborn."

"No, Monsieur Khan, those reasons are not why I took the case. If you must know, I will tell you everything."

At his nod of approval, she took a deep inhalation before she began a synopsis of her life's story.

"I came from a rich family, the Healdsburg lineage from Manchester. I was the only child of Theodore and Caroline Healdsburg, and my father and I left Manchester when I was sixteen. Having lost my mother at age eight, I became catatonic; my father thought a new home would help bring my 'voice' back. It didn't. Around the time we arrived my father hired an eighteen year old stable boy named Spencer Wilhelm Willows to do hard labor. He helped me train and ride a wild horse named Chester. One day my horse threw me off and almost killed me, but Spencer took care of me. After that we began courting (I still had not spoken a word) but we never needed verbal words. I won't burden you with our tales of romantic escapades, but we soon fell in love. My first words in eight years 'I love you' that I had spoken were to him. Right when he spoke those words to me, my father found out about our relationship. To say that he was livid would be an understatement. He demanded that I end the relationship despite the fact that Spencer helped me get my voice back. My father said it was indecent and scandalous for a woman of my standing to be with a common servant boy. I fought with him, but my father had…acquaintances… that would make loans to poor beggars…"

The Persian man rubbed his index finger and thumb on his chin in meditation. He responded, "You mean to say he was familiar with loan sharks."

She nodded, "Yes, these loan sharks were after Spencer because he was indebted to them. They wanted repayment."

"Why did he need the loan?"

"He was left an orphan in Virginia, and grew up alone. However, his mother had a sister who was too poor to care for another child; she had eight already. She became severely ill with cholera, and Spencer wanted to do the right thing. She had kids that depended on her, and she was the only family he had left. He asked for a large loan to pay the doctors. When his aunt got well, she took her kids and left Spencer with the debt."

"I see. So, if you did not end the relationship, then your father would hand him over to the loan sharks."

The brunette nodded in agreement before speaking yet again.

"Spencer was devastated when I ended the relationship, but he vowed that he would not give up. He worked and worked until he got enough money and paid off his debt. During that time my father had arranged a marriage of convenience to a prosperous business owner in Georgia. On the day of the wedding, he whisked me away and we got married in Virginia. Later I found out that my father had disowned me and Spencer and I were destitute."

Tears formed in her eyes as Nadir handed her his handkerchief which she gladly accepted and wiped her eyes.

"What does your husband do for work?"

"He plays the piano and is currently opening a theater. He will arrive here sometime the week after next."

Nadir shook his head in apprehension.

"This is not good for you. If Erik finds out that you are married to a musician and are co-owner of a theater with your husband, he will use that against you."

"I don't know what you think about psychoanalysts, but I do not reveal anything about myself to my patients."

The Persian smiled and chuckled mirthlessly.

"Ah, you do not know Erik. He can manipulate anyone. He is very dangerous. He is lethal."

He noticed she smiled tenderly. When he inquiringly looked at her, she clarified.

"My husband said those same things to me. He did not want me to leave. Did you know a Detective Loamier?"

He cocked his head and nodded. "Why?"

"He spoke to my husband and told him that I should not come. I assured my husband that I would not have even one session with the masked man unless he was present. I intend to keep my promise. However, I am allowed an interview with the only person that knows him. What can you tell me about Erik?"

The Persian man leaned back in the chair, stroking his chin, before his eyes gazed into her green ones.

"My history with Erik goes back at least twenty years ago. I was the chief of police, or daroga, of Persia at that particular time. The shah had heard rumors of a masked man who was amazing in architecture and magic, and he wanted me to bring the man to him for work. After investigating, I found out that this man was last seen living in Kazakhstan. My servant Darius and I traveled to Russia to find him. Two weeks of searching, our hunt was fruitless. We decided to take a day off, so I opted to visit the local carnival in Nizhny Novgorod. While looking around in the hall of mirrors, I felt a presence and then a knife was pressed to my throat. Looking at the mirror, I saw Erik. He was tall and had a skeletal body. That was a guise, for he truly was as strong as ten men. His eyes will always glow in the darkness like two orbs of fire. His mask was black and had red paint drops that fell from the eye sockets to make the appearance of blood drops. He smelled of death…like rotting carcasses. When you meet with him, do not show fear nor show any effect when hearing his voice. He has the voice of an angel, but do not be deceived. His soul is as dark as a demon's. He hissed in my ear, 'I hear you are looking for me detective. What do you want with Death?' I was trembling in fear, not for myself, but of the thought that my son would be alone in the world should this masked man kill me."

The former detective paused as he tried to collect his emotions at the mention of his dead son, Reza. When he was calm, he began his narrative once more.

"Also, do not look into his eyes. He has the power to render his victim powerless with once stare. I looked into his eyes and fell limp. The knife was held steady on my throat and I told him why I had come. Dropping the knife only slightly, he bid me follow him to his place of residence. We passed the gypsies' camp to a passé home that he resided in. I did not do anything he did not tell me to do. He ordered me to sit, and I did so in a worn chair while he sat on a piano bench. The place was worn down with dusty furniture and rotting wood frames and floors while the curtains were dirty and torn. There was a beautiful grand piano that was polished and shined like a diamond in a coal mine. He sat while twiddling the knife he had put on my neck a few moments before. His voice was deep and melodic, but was ominous and sinister at the same time."

He paused and poured a cup of water which he drank in three seconds to quench his thirst before he finished part of the story.

"He said to me, 'I suppose I will go with you to Persia, only for my amusement. I need a new environment, no? Besides, I was looking for new furniture…However, if I find out that you or that shah are out to get rid of me, I will eliminate you.' We arrived back to the Mazenderan and the shah took a great liking to the masked man. I will not trouble you with the frivolous account of Persia. To make it short, he became the shah's personal entertainer, architect, and assassin. He assassinated political leaders quietly and discreetly. My homeland is where he got the most lethal weapon: the Punjab lasso. It is made of cat gut and he used it mercilessly. With a snap of a wrist, he can wipe out five people in less than thirty seconds. He always carried it with him. Fortunately, he did have a semblance of humanity: he never killed women or children. He and I were civil, and I worked in the shah's inner courts. He built a palace filled with trap doors and secret passageways, a feat he was known for in the land. Pretty soon, the shah tired from his pet and consulted me to kill the masked man because he knew too much."

Serene was listening with rapt attention and had begun taking notes, which Nadir did not mind.

"Darius and I got a partially decomposed body and dressed it in the masked man's clothes and dumped it. I informed Erik about the shah's plans and he left Persia. It was not long after that the shah found out what I had done. My life was spared only because I was part of the royal court; however, I was banished and without my pension. It was pure coincidence that I ran into Erik again."

It was then that Dr. Belier entered the room and asked Serene to come with him. Nadir nodded to her, saying that they would continue where they left off the next day. Serene nodded jovially before setting off to learn her new surroundings. As she and her colleague reached the threshold of the door, Nadir stopped them.

Looking at Serene he warned, "Mrs. Willows, whatever you do, do _**not**_ go near Erik alone!"

_----Later that night----_

After talking about the masked man's case, Serene and Dr. Belier bade farewell to each other and left. He went home to his wife while Serene tossed and turned in her bed at the Inn.

'It's hopeless!' She thought to herself. She needed her husband next to her to sleep.

Tossing the blanket to the side, she grabbed her coat and set out for a walk. Down a few blocks was the sanitarium, and Serene thought it would be a good idea to look at the masked man behind the door; she was surely safe with a metal door separating them.

He was surely asleep even though it was ten o' clock because his dinner was laced with the traditional laudanum. However, when she peered in the room, she saw he was very much awake.

Sitting on his cot, he was writing in what appeared to be a journal. There was a small candle in the windowsill. 'How did he get a candle because it was illegal for patients to have any form of fire?' She thought to herself.

Mesmerized by this mysterious man, she found herself staring. Suddenly, an orderly in the hall dropped a bed pan, causing a raucous sound of clattering on the concrete floors. To her horror, the masked man's head whipped up and two glaring and glowing gold eyes stared intently right at her, the journal in his lap fell to the floor with some pages spilling out.

Standing up, Serene did not recall him walking to the door. Rather, it was as if he eerily floated across the room. A stray thought passed through her mind 'No wonder they called him Opera Ghost.'

Now she stood in front of the door while staring through the glass where the masked man stood on the other side. They stared at each other as Serene pressed a hand on the glass.

A flicker of apprehension passed through his eyes as he momentarily looked at her before he pressed a pale skeletal hand in the same spot as hers on the other side of the glass. She smiled at him and he too, smiled back. His teeth were surprisingly healthily white. However, most of his face was covered beneath that infamous mask; so she could see nothing of facial expressions.

Cocking his head to the right, he motioned for her to come in the room. Without a second thought, she entered his area. Standing in front of the closed door, she skimmed the room and found a hole where a tile lay nearby and his straitjacket was tossed carelessly adjacent to the journal on the floor.

When he spoke to her, she trembled at the beauty of his voice. Nadir Khan had not lied about his voice; it was stunning.

"You must be Dr. Willows…I am certain that you know who I am, but I will ask you to call me Erik…simply Erik."

She smiled awkwardly before responding, "Okay, Erik, you can call me Serene, then. I had not anticipated meeting you until my husband arrived."

"You are a beautiful woman, Serene. However, Christine's beauty far surpassed your own."

Serene sat down on his cot while he put away his journal as he listened to his new doctor.

"I suppose that is your way of complimenting, Erik. I saw a picture of Christine, and she was beautiful. It's funny, though, I never thought that you would be a man who only was infatuated with looks."

He chuckled darkly before responding, "You have misjudged me, Madame, for I am infatuated with beauty. Beauty comes in many forms: women, art, architecture…"

"And music, right? I heard and read from your file that you are master of art, magic, architecture, music, and murder. It does not surprise me. You would not be here without cause. You either must be a brilliant man or you are a mad one."

"Can I not be both? Madness is one step from intelligence, Serene. You will see that you have elements of both as well. Perhaps you should be here with me, no?"

"Do you hate the world that much?"

Erik paused midway of standing to look at her curiously at the random question. Once he caught up with her in her line of query, he answered.

"The world has not been kind to me…"

"So you get revenge by resorting to self-induced madness? Erik, my husband led a difficult life…People all around live harsh lives…"

"My life has been far more difficult than most, especially your husband's."

"Why do you say that?"

"Your husband has you, does he not? You comfort him when he is hurting; you care for him when he is ill; you love him even when he errs. I, on the other hand, have not anyone to comfort me, care for me, or love me in my entire life."

"I see your point, Erik, but I would ask you to look at it this way. Everyone has their problems, but that does not mean that another's problems seem less vexing to him than another's is to him."

"You are a smart woman, Serene, but you lack experience. I can tell by your hands that you have not ever had to work hard labor. Your very education indicates to me that you come from a wealthy bloodline, and the way you carry yourself suggests to me that people who cared about you encouraged you to be who you are."

"And you, Erik, are a smart man, but you lack a sense of morality. My husband was orphaned and destitute. He was beaten and tortured and left all alone in an orphanage while his only family abandoned him. The world was not fair to him; he had done nothing to deserve isolation and man's hatred. When he got out of the orphanage, he had no money, so he had to steal just to eat. No one gave him a second thought…"

"Then he met you, right? I can relate to him up until he met you..."

"No, you can relate to him fully because you met Christine."

He became quiet as he relived some foreign memory. Serene lay on her side on his cot while he came forward. For some reason she felt at ease with the masked man even when he came and sat down in front of the bed. She was inches from the ties to his mask.

As if reading her thoughts, he warned menacingly, "Don't even try to remove my mask. I will kill you."

"I suppose that was the downfall of the relationship, when she removed the mask?"

His silence was answer enough. He began to hum and before she knew it, he was singing softly. His hypnotic and hauntingly beautiful voice slowly lulled Serene to sleep.

_What if there was no light  
Nothing wrong, nothing right  
What if there was no time  
And no reason or rhyme  
What if you should decide  
That you don't want me there by your side  
That you don't want me there in your life _

What if I got it wrong  
And no poem or song  
Could put right what I got wrong  
Or make you feel I belong  
What if you should decide  
That you don't want me there by your side  
That you don't want me there in your life

Stopping the song, he realized that his doctor was asleep. He thought that this would be the opportune time to escape, but a voice in his head said, 'No, not yet, the time has not arrived, but it will be soon.'

Putting the tile back on the hole and putting on the straitjacket, he watched the doctor sleep as he put on the mental patient exterior. Yes, she was falling perfectly into his plans. Soon he would prove to Christine that he did not fall apart because she destroyed his heart.

**Author's Note: The lyrics to "WHAT IF" belong to Coldplay. I love that band. Anyhow, the next chapter is a flashback of Erik and Christine (Raoul will be there too). Then, there will be a chapter each session the two have. Erik has some sneaky plans up his sleeve. Whatever happened to Christine? Is she dead or is she alive? R&R and let me know what you think!**

© Copyright 2007


	5. Chapter 5 Erik's Tragic Disillusion

_Disclaimer: I absolutely do NOT own, nor do I gain any monetary subsidies, for this fan fiction story. The characters, setting, names belong to the author that created them (Leroux, Kay), BUT the plot is all mine!_

**Author's Note: This is a focal chapter. It is a flashback where Christine unmasks Erik. I will not say why this chapter is so important to the story, but trust me…it will blow your minds when it's revealed at least ten chapters from now. Enjoy this all Erik chapter! R&R please, if you like! **

**A note: There is an immense load of Leroux-based novel information in this chapter, so I do not take credit for thus information found (i.e. Apollo's Lyre, some of Erik's wording, Erik's room). **

_**Chapter Five- Erik's Tragic Disillusion Begins**_

_----Beneath the Opera Populaire 1898----_

_Erik had finished Scene I of Act II of __**Don**__**Juan**__**Triumphant**__ and he now sat in his library reading one of the books in his vast collection. Christine would arrive anytime for her lesson. _

_The Opera house was full of commotion in preparation for the upcoming opera __**Carmen**__ and Christine had voice lessons everyday for three hours to prepare for the lead role. Carlotta Garibaldi mysteriously became ill three days prior to the debut._

_As he closed the book he finished reading, Erik glanced up at the clock when the lake siren went off. He went outside his home to see Christine rowing up to the shore while he disconnected the wires that activated the siren._

_She smiled congenially when she approached her music maestro who welcomed her inside his home. She had dressed simply in a pale yellow sundress while Erik dressed in a black suit with gray stripes. They could have passed as the moon and the sun, day and night, light and darkness. _

_Following her inside, Erik allowed her to sit on his couch then offered her some tea, which she accepted and sipped quietly. With great difficulty, the masked man sat in his armchair as Christine turned a suspicious glance at him._

"_Erik, are you well?"_

_He smiled a small grin with difficulty before responding melodiously, "I am fine, my dear. I suppose it is because I am getting older."_

_Christine was not appeased, but decided to drop it on any case and stood to commence their lesson. _

_Erik, however, had other ideas. He stood, too, grabbing some papers from the mahogany coffee table and then walked over to his library. Sitting down in a leather chair, he waited for Christine to follow him inside his book room._

_When she entered, her puzzled countenance also beheld a great degree of worry. She felt uneasy from Erik's erratic behavior. He was an unusual person, but he was never this strange._

"_Before we start, Christine, I would like you to read this letter…Read the portion I have underlined. Here you go. Do not look at me like that; I have a reason behind all that I say and do. Now read."_

_ Christine nervously skimmed the paper before reading it aloud as she immediately recognizing why Erik was upset._

"_I cannot wait to marry you, Raoul. I am so excited to become your wife, but we must keep our courtship and engagement secret. I cannot tell you more than that, but if you love and trust me, then you will listen. In the future, I will explain everything. Be careful and do not speak about our union. My music maestro is very strict. He wants me to focus on my music._

_I love you,_

_Christine (Little Lotte)_

_Where did you get my letter, Erik? I thought you promised me that you would stop spying on me!"_

_The masked man's eyes flickered with annoyance and barely contained rage. Christine knew that she was treading on thin ice, especially with Erik's unpredictable bouts of anger but she would not be ignored._

_To her surprise, Erik smirked one of his signature perceptive grins before he stood up with great effort. Christine noticed how his lips were tight as if he fought off a grimace, but it was hard to tell with the mask. His normally languorous walk hindered._

_Chuckling without mirth, he approached her with outstretched arms while his black mask loomed over her. Shuddering with trepidation, Christine took a step back but before she could say a word, the masked man grabbed her arms._

"_I have never spied on you, Christine. I always keep watch over my theater. Erik does not spy; he is everywhere…"_

_The trembling opera singer shrugged off his grip on her arms as Erik elicited a low moan of pain. Holding his shoulder, the masked man moved away from her and walked to his room. With his back facing her while he stood in his threshold, he stopped when Christine spoke to him._

_"Erik, wait, I do not want you to go. You're hurt…Let me help…Let me explain."_

_She watched his shoulders tense up as he turned to face her. His eyes glazed over with pain as he ambled to her. He took her hand gently and led her to his leather settee. Once she sat down, he settled himself next to her._

"_Christine, do you know what you really want? I do not think that you do. You once said that you want to know me…Well, I am hurt, but in many ways: physically, mentally, and emotionally. I suppose that I must clarify how I stumbled upon your 'love' letter. After sending a correspondence to the managers for my monthly demands, I was preparing a grand surprise for your eighteenth birthday when Nadir Khan stopped me to talk."_

_At her quizzical look, he elaborated, "Nadir Khan is the Persian man that usually wears an Afghan hat. You and the ballet corps always see him lurking about in the shadows. I daresay he is almost as dexterous in hiding in the dark as I am. You could say that he believes himself to be my conscience and tries to act as my au pair. Before I was able to leave to get your gift, he questioned me about your and my relationship…I told him that you came on your own free will, and that I would not harm you. He seemed suspicious but satisfied with my answer as I left him by the shore. Before dawn had even come, I picked up the gifts I had purchased for you and it was serendipitous that I happened upon your boy, Viscount Raoul de Chagny. He did not see me, seeing as I was in the alley shadows; he was reading a letter intently from a person whose elegant handwriting was familiar: it was yours. That insipid boy of yours read the letter aloud in the marketplace. That was how I found out of your engagement, your deception to me, and your plan to abandon me to elope with him." _

_Christine's heart, fearing Erik's wrath, thundered within her chest. He always warned her that terrible events would happen if she ever left him, and now he found out what she had written to Raoul out of her frustration. Yet, he only brought a hand to rub his sour eyes in the black eye sockets in pain. His pain was so overwhelmingly perceivable that Christine could feel the weight of his broken heart._

_She had decimated his heart with her actions, and all he wanted was for someone to care about him. She felt horrible._

_"I am so sorry I hurt you, Erik."_

_Pausing she became silent as he rose his hand to quiet her. "Please, Christine, let me finish. After hearing your plans, I collapsed in the alleyway. I pressed my hands on either side of my head, trying to dissipate the rage and emotion to kill that boy because I know that should I have done that, I would only earn your hatred. Once I calmed down, I stood up and saw the boy drop your letter as he got in his carriage and ride off. That is how I came to obtain your letter. Picking up the papers, I put them in my cloak pocket. As I turned to leave, I realized that the boy's carriage had stopped and sat idly in the street. It was then I understood I had walked into a trap."_

_At this point of the story, he chuckled darkly._

"_I, the infamous Opera Ghost, master of ruses, had been duped. The boy deliberately dropped the letter. Before I could react, that damn viscount came into my peripheral vision and aimed his pistol at me. I distinctly recall him yelling before he pulled the trigger, 'Leave Christine alone, monster!' That is why my movements seemed inhibited earlier because while the boy can shoot a target, he is a deplorable at having an assassin's aim. Bleeding, I returned here where Nadir helped to stitch my wound. Now you know the truth. I have no doubt your boy believes in your Angel of Music now; rather he must consider me the Angel of Hell. Excuse me."_

_Grunting with pain, he rose out of his seat to stroll to his room where he passed his coffin/bed to the piano that rested directly under the __**Dies Irae**__ sign on his black wall._

_When Christine entered the room, she assumed that he was going to begintheir lesson; but Erik prohibited her from entering._

"_No, Christine, our lesson is officially cancelled. You may return to your world of light whilst I remain here and try to finish my opera. Now, I want you to go."_

_Spinning around on the piano bench, he began to play major and minor chords while Christine stood there, tears filling her eyes. Walking to the front door, she pressed her forehead on its cool surface while Erik's hauntingly evocative melodies permeated the air around her. _

_This was her chance to make things right between her and him. Taking a deep breath, she walked back to Erik's room with her chin held high. She would show him that she cared for and trusted him, and he could trust her._

_The masked man did not hear his pupil enter his room. His back faced her as he played with all the soul, strength, and love within him. He was playing Aminta's Lament, a song about the supposed death of Don Juan that would be symbolic of Erik's broken heart within moments._

_Cautiously stepping closer and closer to her music maestro, she walked careful not to disturb him and ruin her plan. By now, she was close to his back by a hair's width and he had not moved, so immersed in his music._

_It felt like minutes passed as her trembling hand reached out to the ties that held Erik's mask in place, but in reality, it only took three seconds for the mask to fall off and a raucous disaccord of keys to sound._

_He whirled around with such fury that Christine fell on her bottom in shock. Nothing, not even the horrors of war, could have prepared her for the sight of Erik's face. As if his abhorrent excuse for a face was not bad enough, the seething expression of fury contorted his countenance to that of a flaming skull._

_Her eyes involuntarily rolled in the back of her head, most likely to escape the horror of his deformity of their own accord. The flesh that covered his whole face was too tight for a normal man, emitting a putrid odor of infection and death. Webs of bluish purple and red veins were seen in his taut sunken yellow cheeks as the bones of his face protruded out beneath his glaring eyes. His forehead was stretched high, but even the ashen brow could not take the attention off his flaming gold eyes. Within the blackness of his hollow and cadaverous eye sockets, two flaming golden orbs regarded her with pervaded anger. _

_His lips were so pallid that Christine would later dub Erik's face as being lipless. The most hideous sight of his face was the corpselike hole where a nose should have been formed but sadly, the only semblance was two slits for nostrils. _

_A repulsed scream emitted from her throat as she covered her eyes; however, Erik was not about to let her get away with that. He tossed his head back and laughed maniacally before his living skull face looked at her with utter hate. _

"_Don't you like what you see? Do you see what your damn, imprudent curiosity has caused? You are frightened of me, no. You cannot bear the sight of me! Well, once any woman sees the face of Erik, she is bound to him for all eternity! I AM DON JUAN!"_

_He tossed his head arrogantly to emphasize his point while a quivering Christine had crawled to the corner of the room desperately holding her hands in front of her eyes to block out the abhorrence before them. Too bad, she could not erase the mental image of his face as quickly as she could her vision._

_Christine, too horrified to stand or walk, literally crawled towards the door to get away from her tormented abhorrent-looking maestro; however, he was not going to let her elude him now._

_With a spidery hand, he grabbed her hair and yanked her backwards to him. He forced her to look at his grotesque face while she screamed into his ghost's head with anger and fright. Erik continued to antagonize her._

"_Why are you leaving? My Aminta, why would you leave your handsome lover, Don Juan? How many times did Erik warn you never to remove his mask? I told you once a woman sees Erik's face; she is bound to him for eternity! Why did you take it off? I know. You wanted to hurt me…"_

_"No! Erik, please! Please listen, let me explain!"_

_Cocking his head to the side, his gold eyes flickered at her before he spoke again, his resonant voice tainted with spite._

"_No, I will not listen to more of your lies! You would have come back to me if you had continued to believe I was handsome like your 'valiant' viscount! But not now, you will leave me if I let you go…You will stay with me…and your boy will not have you!"_

_Tears of sorrow and fear ran down her cheeks in torrents as she futilely placed her hands on his broad chest and tried to push him (namely his face) away from hers. She briefly saw devastated anguish pass through his eyes before his brick wall came up again._

"_What? Do you think that this atrocity is another mask? Well, take it off! Come on! Do it. Let me help you!" _

_Forcefully, he placed his large hands over her small ones while Christine murmured her protest repeatedly, but she knew that she was helpless. Pressing her fingernails deep into his sickly yellow flesh, he could not feel the pain of the red liquid falling from the ghastly wounds on his cheeks and flow into his mouth. She felt bile shoot up through her esophagus to her mouth as she saw her nails in his bloodied, hideous flesh._

_Fearing loss of her sanity, she grabbed both sides of Erik's face and forced herself to stare into the eyeless glaring gold orbs._

"_Erik, please…I will not leave you…Let me take care of you. Don't hurt me, maestro."_

_Her soothing words eased his aching heart enough for his lucidity to return. The two of them both inhaled sharply as Erik wrenched away from her and sat, cowering by the piano bench. His deformed face was hidden from her as he held it in his hands, weeping with such sorrow that all of Christine's fear vanished. In its stead, she felt pity._

_Picking up the black mask near his coffin-bed, she crawled slowly over to his distressed form. He turned his face further into the shadows and took his mask from her outstretched hand before he put it back on. His once strong shoulders now sagged beneath the weight of what had just transpired._

_He sucked in air in painful gasps as he tried to regain some of the dignity that had been stripped from him with his mask. Lifting his knees to his chest, he buried his head in his arms despite Christine still next to him._

"_Erik…Er..."_

_"No. Just go back to the Louis-Philippe room and rest. I know that you are…stressed…I will be fine."_

"_Erik, I want to stay with you. I am worried about you, not me."_

_Not admitting it to herself, she felt relieved when his masked face regarded her. His magnificent musician hands were trembling, and he stood; however, his legs were shaking so badly that he fell but not completely. He grabbed the piano bench to steady his self._

_Christine approached him but he stopped her with an emotionless tone._

"_No, Christine, don't come closer. Go and rest in your room, and I will take you back to the world of light. Forget me…Forget all of this…all that I have given you. Erik will hurt you no more. I ask only that you wear his ring, for as long as you wear Erik's ring, nothing bad will happen. Take it and remember me. Remember that as long as I draw breath, you will be loved."_

_Surprised that she had any left, more tears fell down her face as he held out his onyx ring in the palm of his hand. She took it and before she knew better, she took his quivering form in her arms. Laying her head on his shoulder, she whispered in his ear, eliciting a shudder from him._

_"I will never forget you, Erik. You are too much a part of my life for me to forget. I care about you, and when you hurt, I do as well. I know you love me, and you would never intentionally hurt me. I am sorry that I hurt you with my relationship with Raoul, but I swear that we did not intend to marry, Erik. He is leaving with the navy in two months…"_

_He said nothing, only wrapping his thin but strong arms around his beautiful pupil and rocked her from side to side. Soon, she was snoring softly in his arms. Picking her up, he set her on his couch in his large sitting area before he blew out the candles. Returning to his room, he decided that he needed to rest, for his spent body was aching. He settled himself in the coffin-bed and folded his arms across his chest, drifting off to slumber._

_----By the Lake----_

_Across the placid lake, was a very tense Persian man who sat on the shore perceiving and watching with his black eyes. He knew that across the lake was the entrance to his masked man's home, but he had yet to figure out where exactly the entrance was located. He knew that there was another way to the house through the third cellar, yet Erik had installed, rather, armed the entire crypt with booby-traps that would end the life of anyone who dared to roam it._

_Nay, it was too risky to try. Sitting at the shoreline for nearly two hours had also proved fruitless, but then he spotted something amidst the fog. Narrowing his eyes, the foreign man could make out a black shadow upon the boat approaching the shore._

_Fearing it was Erik, Nadir withdrew into the dark corner as the boat touched the sandy shoreline. He sighed with relief when he saw the young singer emerge from the boat seemingly unharmed._

_Dressed in a deep blue satin cloak, her blue eyes gleamed in the candlelight as she peered around her nervously. Stepping out of the dark, the Persian advanced towards her as she started at the sight of him._

_Pressing a brown finger to his lips, he motioned for her to follow him. She glanced back in the direction of Erik's house before nodding. Once they were deeper in the fifth cellar, he spoke in a heavy Middle-Eastern accent. _

"_I assume you are the infamous Christine Daae that Erik has told me about."_

_Before he received an answer, the attractive young woman ran into his embrace. Feeling awkward, he wrapped his arms around the woman and rubbed her back to soothe her. He could feel the tears seep through his silk shirt. _

"_Ah, yes, you are the Christine that he claims to love. I take it that you have seen his true face. I can see no other reason for anything else to elicit such distress in a young woman as you."_

_Her tear-stained face looked up to the Arab man's before meekly nodding. He sighed as he motioned for her to follow him. Leading her out of the tunnel to the mirror-door until they entered her room, he gave her some words of encouragement after she told him the entire story, leaving no detail hidden._

"_Mademoiselle Daae, he let you go. He obviously trusts you."_

_"He does not trust me, Monsieur Khan. He said he could not."_

"_I know him far better than you. He would not have let you go if he did not trust you. Will you go back to him?"_

_"I have no choice. He said if I did not, then a disastrous event would occur. I do not want any more blood on my hands. He told me that you were his conscience. Will you talk to him? Will you help Erik? He needs a friend."_

"_What he wants, Mademoiselle is you. If I cannot give him you, then he will not listen to me. He told me that you loved him. Is that true?"_

_"I care about him…"_

"_Do you love Viscount Chagny?"_

_"Yes, I do but that shouldn't be an issue…"_

"_Ah, you are a naïve one, Mademoiselle. Erik is a jealous man by nature when it comes to music, to his work, and to you. If he believes you will leave him or you love another man, then he will never let you go. His insecurity fuels most of what he does, and he does love you in his own way. Try not to devastate his heart, Mademoiselle. He cannot take anymore heartache."_

_Turning back to the dark tunnel, she grabbed his coat-covered arm and asked, "What heartache? What do you mean? Who or what has hurt him?"_

_Smiling softly, he retorted softly, "If he wants you to know, he will tell you. I must not tell you his past secrets. He would surely kill me then. I will only say that not many have been kind to our masked man."_

_Before she could question him further, the Arab man had left as silent as Erik often moved. The only thought that went through Christine had was, 'Erik was right. The Persian man truly moves as deft as my masked music maestro.'_

_---Two Days Later---_

"_Raoul we must hurry! We must go the roof, and there I will explain everything!"_

_The young man was obviously distressed but could not think of anything except this woman's safety. The New Year's Ball was transpiring beneath them as they ascended higher and higher towards Apollo's Lyre while of women in brilliantly colored array of ball gowns and tuxedo-clad men danced the night away. _

_Only moments ago, Raoul had time to tear himself away from Philippe when La Sorelli's entrance distracted him. Both brothers had dressed similarly in black tuxedos with red vests and ties. They wore fitted grey gloves and had red masks. There was no denying that the two Chagnys were the most attractive men of the ball. _

_Walking through the mass, Raoul stopped several times to exchange salutations with business acquaintances and comrades from the naval academy. However, he finally made it to Christine, who was dressed in a deep purple gown with her curled hair up in a bun and was in a velvet blue coat, which made him curious how she came by it. He had not purchased that for her, and she could not afford such a luxury._

_She wore a deep magenta mask, but even he could see that she was nervous. Glancing at all directions, her gloved hands trembled; her wide eyes flitted from one side to the other. He wondered what was scaring her or whom. _

_Once she saw him, she grabbed his arms and whispered desperately in his ear, "Come with me. It is not safe here. He will hear us. Follow me to the roof."_

_Now they stood beneath Apollo's Lyre on the Opera Populaire's rooftop as Christine continued to scan the area constantly._

"_What is going on, Christine? You are frightened and that is worrying me. I have no idea what is troubling you."_

_She made no response and flung herself into his protective embrace. Taking off her mask, tears covered her face and he took off his to kiss her lightly on her forehead. Sighing heavily, she stood near the edge of the roof and crossed her arms over her chest, watching the city's lights and people celebrating in the streets._

_He had not a clue on what he should do, so he stood still and merely waited for her to speak when she was ready._

"_Oh my darling Raoul, my heart feels smothered with everything that has happened to me in the past seven months. You will not believe my story, but I will…I must tell you. This may very well be the only time I can tell you, for he is working on his masterpiece Don Juan. Whenever he works on it, he neither sleeps, eats, or leaves…We are safe from his ears up here."_

_"I am afraid you have lost me, my love. Who is this 'he' of which you speak?"_

"_Oh, the horrific nightmare I have lived the past seven months! What was I thinking?"_

_She told him the sad tale of how Erik impersonated himself as the Angel of Music sent to her by her father all up to the tale of his unmasking. _

"_Imagine, Raoul! You have seen the skulls of Perros that have been dried for centuries, but his face…Imagine, if you will a living and breathing flaming live skull with two black eye sockets and a gaping hole for a mouth that could devour you in its fueled hatred. He has no nose, only a black void where one should have formed…He grabbed my hair and forced my nails to puncture his yellow flesh until it bled."_

_"Enough, enough, Christine, I'll kill him! Lead me to the home underground by the lake, and I will kill him for laying his hideous hands on you!"_

"_No, Raoul! You do not understand. He loves me, but I hurt him. I destroyed his trust in me…He has selflessly given of himself to give me all that I could ever desire. He would never intentionally hurt me. Oh, poor Erik!"_

_  
The night's serenity suddenly dissipated as echoes of 'poor Erik' resounded all around the two lovers. Christine's fear returned twofold as she once again fidgeted, looking around discomfited. _

"_He is a murderer, Christine! I had not an idea that the Opera Ghost and this Erik were one in the same. Had I known, I'd have shot him in his Death's head!"_

_Raoul was not appeased by her ill-sought devotion to this masked murderer. He felt that he should not be silent, for he was an honorable man who only wished to protect the woman he loved._

"_If this Erik was a handsome man, would you love him?"_

_To his chagrin, her blue eyes twinkled lightly before she responded, "Why tempt fate, Raoul? He is hopelessly devoted to me, so I must see him again."_

"_No you do not have to; you and I can run away now. My brother has a carriage always ready to leave Paris if he needs it. He would allow me to use it. We could go to any city along the Seine and get married. Let's go now!"_

_His confounded heart was torn as he saw fresh tears renew themselves in her eyes while she once again gazed out in the city. Her arms crossed over her chest; she looked at him. He suddenly saw the dark bags underneath her eyes and her beautiful shoulders sagged beneath the weight of all the tumult._

_"No, my darling, I cannot leave just yet. I owe him one last performance, and then you and I can leave. Erik has a friend who will look after him once I go. He will not understand my departure, so we must remain silent about the plan…no one, not even Madame Giry or Philippe needs to know of our plan. The Persian man will take care of Erik…It tears me in half to know that I will destroy him by leaving, but I cannot stay with him. If I stay with him, I will slowly, but surely, self-destruct. My poor Erik…"_

_The night, already filled with echoes, once again resounded with 'poor Erik,' but the two remained oblivious to the lurking danger. Nor did they notice the two glaring gold lights flickering above the Apollo statue's head._

_She covered her eyes with her hands and wept while Raoul gathered her in his arms. Stroking her back, he reassured her with flirtatious endearments and words of love before she regained her composure._

_Gazing in his eyes with such adoration, Christine leaned up and their lips meant. He kissed her with the passion that he felt and it thrilled him to no end as she responded with the same vigor. _

_When they parted, Christine attempted to twist Erik's ring on her finger, a habit she had whenever she was nervous. Hot blood shot up to her face as panic flared in her eyes. _

"_Raoul, my ring! Erik's ring! Help me find it, Raoul! We need to find it!"_

_He truly wanted the ring to remain lost, but he saw her frenzied state and knew better than to go against her wishes. Feeling ridiculous, he swallowed his pride and helped his love, his fiancé, to search for another man's ring on the roof. _

_However, it appeared that Fate was not on their side, for their futile search proved useless. The onyx ring was nowhere to be found. _

_Raoul had to hold Christine in his arms just to ease much of her incessant trembling. She could not be consoled nor would let Raoul tell her all would be fine. Christine knew better; she knew that the ring had symbolized her oath to Erik. If she returned to him without his ring on, he would lose what little sanity she had instilled in him when she first left._

_Nadir's words rang through her head, which only added to her turmoil. _

"_**If he believes you will leave him or you love another man, then he will never let you go. His insecurity fuels most of what he does, and he does love you in his own way. Try not to devastate his heart, Mademoiselle. He cannot take anymore heartache."**_

_With what little courage she could muster, she and Raoul left the rooftop. He left to meet with his brother Philippe to discuss their options whilst Christine went in search for the foreign man, Nadir. He, perhaps, was as unfathomable as her music maestro was, but he was the only one that could help her._

_Once the two were gone for good, a masked man full of sorrow descended from the statue with his gunshot wound aching from the ordeal. His breath could not come to him, so devastated from her callous words. More than anything else, the worst of her treachery was that passionate kiss…the kiss that had been denied to him for decades._

_He was choking on his own tears and was burning up beneath the mask. Flinging it off, he took gulps of cold air, which caused his lungs to ache but relived him all the same. Falling to all fours, he stared at his hands on the cold roof's surface. His gruesome visage contorted as he tried to control the rage that welled up within his heart. _

_Thirsting for revenge, his fists curled and he twirled his onyx ring, which he found on the ballroom floor, on his finger with utter fury. His body shook as he slowly began to lose control of his emotions. She was leaving him! She was leaving him for that __**boy**_

_He would make them pay. He would make them all pay! Tossing his abominable head back, his normally melodic voice was now besmirched with utter hatred._

"_**Damn you Christine; you have lied to me for the last time!"**_

**Author's Note: This is, perhaps, the longest chapter I have posted. I pray it was to your liking. I shall update as soon as I can. Feel free to leave a review, and I will eagerly respond back to feedback. If anyone can figure out what the secret to what happened to Christine is, I have something VERY special for you!**

© Copyright 2007


	6. Chapter 6 The Lures of Lake Averne

_Disclaimer: I absolutely do NOT own, nor do I gain any monetary subsidies, for this fan fiction story. The characters, setting, names belong to the author that created them (Leroux, Kay), BUT the plot is all mine!_

**Author's Note: I am so sorry it took so long to get this posted. This has not been thoroughly checked for grammar, so excuse me for any mistakes. Albeit, I hope that you enjoy this chapter. More drama to come soon….I will say this story is E/C, at least in the past flashbacks…The mystery of what happened to Christine is slowly unfolding!**

_**Chapter Six- The Lures of Lake Averne**_

"What the hell were you thinking, Madame Willows! Sleeping in the same room with that masked murderer…How could you be so careless!"

Serene's head gazed towards the floor, as Dr. Belier and Nadir were both pacing the doctor's room while she faced their wrath. She was just as surprised when she awoke in Erik's cot as they were.

Jacque had nudged her shoulder that morning with a look of shock and disapproval as she stood up sleepily as well as disoriented.

The masked man was not in the room but Nadir Khan entered his friend's padded walled room with his usual manner of a police officer and looked at Serene. She felt at that moment she should melt into the floor to escape his stern countenance, but he said nothing while the doctor led them to his office. Once she was seated, Nadir stood by the threshold and the doctor paced in front of her; they began to lecture her.

"Your husband would have killed us if something happened to you. Erik is a very dangerous patient, and we cannot take any risk of him escaping."

An attendant came in to inform Jacque of patients rioting in the eating area of the sanitarium, and he rushed off to the site, leaving Nadir and Serene alone together. Neither said a word to each other for a few seconds, but Serene started.

"I am sorry for my recklessness."

"Well, Madame Serene, it appears my words were ill-received. It seems I must continue to tell you more about the detrimental masked man."

"I'm so sorry, Monsieur Khan. It was never my intention to disobey you or break my promise to my husband…It is just…it is just that he seemed to share a connection with me that night. I intend to start our sessions as soon as possible…"

"That is not wise. Your husband was very prudent when he advised you not to have any time spent with Erik. I am sure he has done his research on the infamous masked man and has found much about my friend. As far as a connection with the masked man, there is none. There was no bond; it was his voice manipulating you. He is up to something and I am determined to figure it out. Until I do, stay away from him."

Before she could say anything else, the foreign man left her alone in the office.

_---Erik's Room---_

Nadir had not wished to confront Erik ever again, but he felt it was necessary to save another woman from his ensnarement. She had already succumbed to his manipulation, but he would not. He knew most of Erik's tricks, and he refused to fall prey to him any more.

Skulking towards the masked man's door, the Persian made no noise. He wanted to sneak upon Erik in order to see what he was doing. He peered in the glass window of the door and saw his former companion writing in a book with his straitjacket strewn carelessly on the floor.

Opening the door, Nadir entered the room while Erik's head jerked up sending him a menacing glare. The mask taunted the Persian with horrific memories of the Rosy Hours of Mazenderan and Erik was receptive of his brown friend's unease. Setting the journal in the hole of the floor, he continued to stare down Nadir.

"Why must you exasperate me, Nadir? Was it not enough for you to commit me here in the first place? Must you continue to brow beat me as well?"

"I am here to finish what we never ended."

"You actually mean when you failed to end my life. You were foolish to think you could outsmart me just as you are foolish to think you can end my life now."

"I was foolish to save your life that day in Persia, for you have only committed yourself to a life destroying innocent lives, manipulating people to do your will, and hurting young Mademoiselle Christine."

His two gold lights for eyes sparked with rage as he slammed his body into the Persian man, who had not anticipated such a reaction. With the foreign man lying on his back and turban tossed on the floor, Erik grabbed his throat with his pale skeletal hands and hissed with such venom that Nadir trembled, knowing all to well Erik's malevolent nature. As the Persian's oxygen supply decreased, Erik jeered.

"You listen to me, you immense simpleton! Don't you _**ever**_ mention her wonderful name around me, or I will cut your tongue out and mail it to the Teheran police force…Then they will know I still live and you will lose not only your pension but also your life!…I never laid a hand on her! I loved her!"

Nadir coughed violently when Erik released him and drifted towards the barred window with his back to his one-time friend.

"You are lying, Erik. You and I both know that your actions have greatly devastated many people. Had you not precipitated such wretched actions, leaving in its wake, detrimental destruction; then, she would not have been hurt. Were you there when I spoke to her the one time when I told her I was convinced that you did indeed love her in your own way? Of course you were, you said that you were everywhere in the theater. On any note, I am not here to discuss Christine…I am here to discuss Dr. Willows…"

A despicable grin wistfully crossed his features at the mention of her name. A chill of suspicious somber shot up Nadir's spine as the masked man's black mouth opened to speak in a low melodic murmur.

"Yes, Dr. Willows. Tell me, friend, how long did you warn her about me? How much of my past have you revealed to her?"

"What I've told her concerning you is irrelevant. I want to know for the last time what happened to Christine, you wretched monster. What are you conspiring? I will not allow another one of you plans to hurt anyone else. Too many have died for your sins!"

"You considered yourself my friend once. What has changed?"

"I have opened my eyes to the fact that you will never change, Erik. You manipulate people, display your grandeur through acts of violence, and create magical spectacles to ignite fear into the hearts of the public; and I shall not aid you any longer. Tell me what you did to Christine or else!"

The masked man's temper flared once more and snorted with such derisive anger that Nadir subconsciously took three steps back out of trepidation. With the nearly lipless mouth, he snarled so viciously that saliva shot out of his mouth and laced his former comrade in the face.

"Or else what, you simpleton! Why are you giving me an ultimatum, eh? Have I not proved what I am capable of already? Must you continue down paths that cross mine, which ultimately will lead you to your death? Erik is not a forgiving man by nature. Why would a monster comply with your ultimatum if he currently resides in hell? I will say that Christine is no more of this life…"

"You are saying she is dead?"

"No, you dim-witted twit, I mean that she is no more of my life! Don Juan's Aminta betrayed him and left him in the dungeon. Tell me, Khan, what did you do with my masterpiece? Did you burn Don Juan as well? Alas, I feel my intelligence level is decreasing every moment here…If only you had not meddled in my life!"

"Erik, if you had not created situations that proved catastrophic, I would not have 'meddled.' Why are you responding to Serene Willows; you have not spoken to anyone or established any sort of a connection to anyone else for nearly three years. What is different now?"

The only response from Erik was an outlandishly maniacal laugh that pervaded even the foreigner's thoughts. He did not answer, but he sidestepped the question by rambling about his friend's character.

"You once told me that you are fatalistic by temperament and take unnecessary responsibilities as if Allah had commanded that duty of you. Not even superstitious, you cannot enjoy a simple magic act, for you must find out how even the minutest of tricks works. I shall say you succeeded in discovering some of my tricks, but not all. I challenge you to find out why I made a connection with this doctor. Find out what purpose it could possibly serve…I tell you what, if you find out what happened to Christine, then I will tell you where I buried your son in Persia…"

At the mention of his son, Nadir lost all sense of what was proprietarily correct and sensible. It was shocking for him to attack, for he was a normally even-tempered and imperturbable man that rarely angered. Reza, his son, had died from a horrendous illness, and Erik blamed Nadir for not coming to him sooner so the boy could have survived. As punishment, Erik duped his friend in order to bury the dead boy he had come to love himself.

Nadir never found out where his son's gravesite, having searched for the past fifteen years. He knew that Erik taunted him as a way to exact the revenge he felt he was justified since Nadir led Raoul de Chagny to him.

He lunged at the masked man and caught Erik off guard. Both men tumbled to the floor as Erik took that time to fight back. The mask gleamed ominously as he used his elbow to slam it into the man's face and sent him reeling backwards. Blood dripped from Nadir's nose as Erik closed his hands around his companion's throat in a vice-like grip. He squeezed so hard that bloody spittle spewed out of the former's mouth into the mouth and mask of Erik. Enraged the masked man failed to notice.

Although Erik was an expert assassin, Nadir luckily had the serenity of mind to perceive the former Opera Ghost's weakness, and he used it. Tearing off the man's mask by the ties and flinging it across the floor, Erik instinctively flew backwards with a string of curses in French, Persian, and Russian aimed towards the other man on the other side of the room. The death's head flew up and Nadir stumbled back to the corner, spitting up more blood while choking in air to fill his lungs. He sucked in a painful breath at the familiar sight of the abhorrent head.

The cot was the only object in their way. While the two regained their selves, both were sucked into the memories of the loss of the people they once loved. Nadir's hands located his thoracic region and pounded themselves on the chest, as the ache grew larger for his beloved son before he painfully sat up and used a sleeve to wipe the blood from his nose and face.

Erik was accustomed to hearing everyone say he was a monster, incapable of feeling any human emotion, but he was not. Seeing the agony of a person who was his only friend in the world tugged his heart, much to his displeasure. He was sane enough to comprehend that his Persian man's pain of a lost loved one was the very same agony that he, too, felt.

With some kindred spirit ignited once more, he replaced his mask and sat down beside Nadir. Many times Nadir had lifted Erik from the darkest of places, and it was due time he return the favor.

The two men sat with their backs against the wall, staring at the floor with quiet deliberation. Erik's gold eyes faded into the black holes while Nadir handed him the straitjacket.

"I only ever wanted to help you, Erik. I did not intend to fight you or set out to hurt you. I had you committed here otherwise you would have been hanged for your crimes. All we want to know is what happened to Christine Daae."

"Why is it you feel it necessary to 'save' me, daroga? What have I been but a toxic wave of detriment in your life? You want to know what happened to Christine. I shall not tell, but you were once a detective of the royal court. You shall find out the answer in time. You have been a fool to think you could save Erik. Erik cannot be saved."

Nadir stood up without a word, obviously distressed and disconcerted with Erik's passivism about the issue. The masked man's eyes flickered slightly in his direction before putting on the straitjacket to resume his seemingly helpless state.

Sighing deeply and shakily, he turned to the masked man's face and said, "Erik, I am too old and too weary to fight with you and play your mind games…trying to solve the riddles. Christine is, or was, an innocent girl. Remember that. Know this no matter what happens in the future or what you do, I will always be your friend, Erik. You once told me that 'Erik may forget that you saved his life;' but I pray to Allah that even if you forget that, you remember that I was Erik's true and only friend all along."

With that said, the Persian left the room while Erik's mind processed the former detective's words. He would soon realize that Nadir's friendship would be the salvation from certain death.

_---On the USS Royale in the Atlantic---_

Spencer Willows was always a reticent man, slow to speak and quick to quiet. He handled the strife of his life well, but he was a man of few words. After the Vicomte de Chagny left his home, Spencer was convinced that the man who encountered the masked murderer was the only one who could help him; he managed to track down the handsome man before he could leave the American shore.

Being a man of bashfulness, he had an uncanny sense of persuasion and convinced the younger Chagny to go with him to Paris. Raoul had his apprehensions but if it got him the answer to what happened to Christine, he knew it would be worth it.

They were sailing to Spain and would then travel by Raoul's family carriage to France. There they would take a train to Paris. It seemed like a lot, but for a man of a Vicomte standing, it was simple. The weather had been kind; blue skies all around while the storms seemed to loom in the two men's hearts.

It was almost time for supper and Spencer was worried. Dressed in a navy blue suit and silk peasant shirt, his hazel eyes gazed out into the blue ocean with lethargy. The wind tousled hair and the bird's calls as they flew by did nothing to satiate his bitter mood.

As the sun began to set, he made his way to the lush lounge where Raoul was bound to be discussing politics with the other rich men. Not accustomed to the lives of the rich and wealthy, Spencer found himself in a difficult situation trying to appear as if he belonged. However, the affluent tended to be very much aware of who was of blue blood and ignored his existence any way.

The lounge was decorated in a red venue of red velvet curtains with gold trim. The vaulted ceilings were painted with a golden hue as the floor was lined with red rugs from Indonesia. Six to a dozen oak tables bordered one side of the room with lace tablecloths while a bar adorned the other side of the wall. In the middle of the room was a brilliant gold chandelier of glass.

Spencer noticed Raoul's apparent apprehension to stand close to the magnificent light fixture, which confirmed what he had read in the newspaper a while ago. It must have had something to do with the tragic incident of the chandelier collapsing on stage in the middle of a performance the Paris Opera House put on long ago. Twenty people had been crushed to death.

Taking a seat at the bar, he ordered a brandy, which he downed in less than a minute. Raoul, who was busy discussing warring countries in Africa due to political corruption and civil unrest, noticed his comrade's poor state on the other side of the room and became concerned.

Taking his leave, he made his way to the bar and sat down next to Spencer who barely acknowledged his presence. Taking his arm, Raoul motioned for him to follow. Begrudgingly, the quiet man abandoned his drink to follow the naval officer to a table near the back of the room where they would have the privacy they needed.

Both taking a seat, Spencer watched in fascination as the other man retrieved a worn journal from his jacket pocket. His blue eyes found the other's inquisitive stare and smiled his white tooth grin.

"This is a chronicle I took during my time with Christine. I figured that my detailed account of what occurred in the theater might have helped the police but it did not. My brother and I both kept journals, a habit we picked up from my father. I had no idea that this would be my last link to Christine. I think it would be best if we knew more about each other, so Erik cannot catch us off-guard."

"Tell me what you want to know about me and I shall answer."

"You are a quiet man; that I can see, but what are you willing to do to protect Serene from the monster?"

"I would do anything it takes…especially shoot him between those manipulating gold eyes."

"I attempted that once, and it only brought on more violence. I thought I had put all of this behind me; and yet, it is there everywhere I turn. What I suffered from that monster is nothing compared to what he is capable of doing. Let me tell you more about my involvement with this insane masked man. One particular incident stood out during the entire hellish time. I believe it is important. Here is this entry and I will read it aloud to you."

Spencer, whose nerves were already on edge became even more so as the young man read the journal entry.

"_1902, August 4 Opera House Office_

_My brother and I had yet another fight involving Christine. I hate fighting with him; I love him. He is my brother, but I know he is only looking out for my best interests. Here is exactly what happened._

_**Philippe sat in his office as I relived my day with Christine Daae. Philippe had a head for business; nevertheless, he also had a knack for protecting the family name.**_

"_**My young brother, it seems that you have fallen in love with the chorus girl."**_

_**I looked at my older brother with an inquisitive look before smiling broadly, as I thought of Christine's face.**_

_**"I love her a lot, Philippe. I never stopped loving her even when I was at sea with the Navy."**_

_**My smile quickly faded as I saw the look on Philippe's face. It was a grave look, the same look our father gave Philippe before he gave a lecture.**_

"_**Raoul, you are a viscount, heir to the de Chagny fortune. Can you imagine what gossip and what detriment would be thrown at our business if you married beneath our status? All that I have worked to create and achieve would be undermined. Do you really want to destroy your brother…your father's business? I love you, young brother, but I cannot allow this."**_

_**My head lowered for a moment before I responded. **_

_**"Philippe, you know I would never intentionally hurt the business name and especially never hurt you, but you always said to marry out of love. You never wanted us to make the same mistake our father made by marrying for business purposes. I love her, brother, and I will stop any scandalous talk that could ruin you. I would not let them use me to hurt you."**_

"_**Raoul, you could not stop them! If you marry the girl, you will be separated from all funds from the de Chagny fortune and business. You will be as destitute as the poor chorus girl is. Think about what you are doing!"**_

_**"I know what I am doing, brother. If I did not give my heart to her, I would regret it the rest of my life, and no amount of money could fix that."**_

_**Philippe's anguished countenance broke my heart, but I knew I was making the right choice. As I left my brother, he said something peculiar. **_

_**Sighing heavily, he poured himself a glass of brandy, staring idly at the Opera Ghost's notes of demands and said, "If you do not stop the affair, then I will be forced to comply. Be wary, Raoul, for this will all end soon, and it will not end pleasantly."**_

_1903 February 5th after the fateful night…_

_To this day, I have no idea what he meant by that and it has irked me still. Yet, he was right; it was six months later when Erik kidnapped Christine. Nadir and I tried to follow him but the fiery head of the rat catcher and his rats distracted us. Thus, we were left with no choice but try to attempt to get into the masked man's house via the third cellar, full of booby traps. _

_That was a big mistake for we ended up in the masked man's torture chamber…It is amazing that we survived with all of our wits about us. I would have died had it not been for Christine's courage and the Persian man's ingenuity. I had blackouts so I do not have all the details of t hat night. However, after the night, Nadir explained to me that the torture chamber was a hexagonal room of mirrors where Erik could use heat, drums, water, and rotational scenery to make a man lose his mind. He had developed the first prototype in Persia where the sultana and shah massacred hundreds of enemy spies and families. _

_We were lucky to have survived. I cannot recall any incident after she turned the scorpion key to release the water. Having found the nail of the floorboard, Nadir and I were able to escape through the floor into a lower cellar…full of gunpowder. When she turned the key, Lake Averne's water gushed through. The last thing I recall is thinking that I was going to die, for the water had reached our lips and was rising still." _

As Raoul set the journal down, Spencer saw his shoulders trembling once again. They were both silent as the former tried to reign in his emotions. He wanted to help prevent from the same thing happening again.

After his brother died, all the wealth he had attained and saved for his younger brother just in case went to him. Raoul had wept for three days straight at the consideration of his older brother…always looking out for his family.

"I thank you for telling me all of this and for coming with me. I have questions though. What is this Lake Averne?"

"Lake Averne was the underground lake that fortified the masked man's underground home…Nadir told me Erik had called the lake that name several times. Its siren and placidness lured its victims to the shore and Erik would then suck them in the water…They were never heard from and rarely seen again. My brother's body washed upon the shore three weeks later, bloated and rotting. I have no idea why or how he came by the lake. To know the full story behind Lake Averne and the occurrence that night, Nadir Khan is the only one that truly knows."

"Will you take me to this Nadir?"

"Of course, we occasionally write to each other. He has written me this letter. Here, take it and read. I will see you in the morning."

With that said, the young handsome man whose face had creases from the trauma suffered at Erik's hands left the pianist to his drink and the letter.

Taking a swig of his drink, Spencer placed a hand on his wearied forehead staring at the letter, deliberating if he should read it or not. Gathering courage from another guzzle of brandy, he dared to open the letter.

**Vicomte Raoul de Chagny,**

**It is evident that the masked man, Erik, is planning something that involves young Serene Willows. I am trying to decipher his plan but I have come up with nothing as of yet. You have informed me that you have talked to her husband and informed him about the danger of Erik. Good. I know the magnitude of what I am asking but it is imperative that you come here. I desperately need your assistance to prevent Erik from escaping…at least until we know what happened to your fiancée. **

**Serene Willows somehow met Erik alone and he has already manipulated her…How, I do not know. Dr. Belier and I found her asleep in his cot! Erik was lying on his back on the floor…Peculiar. She told me that she felt some connection with him…If this is any indication; I believe most assuredly that she will start lessons with the masked man. I will not let her do it alone, rest assured, but if she is fed up; she can assert her authority. I am worried…Erik did not hurt her which is very odd…This only proves that my theory he is up to something is correct. Let me know if you plan to come…If you must, tell Monsieur Spencer Willows of the incident.**

**Sincerely**

**Nadir Emir Ali Khan**

Spencer sat rigidly still, unable to comprehend the words in the letter. Crumbling the paper in his hand, he tossed it on the floor. Laying his burdened head on the table, he was ready to get off the ship and drag the woman he loved away from the masked murderer and go back to their life in Manhattan. He was not afraid for himself but for her.

A waiter happened to walk by and Spencer grabbed his arm. The waiter's eyes enlarged slightly at the sight of the disheveled and distraught man, but quickly regained his senses enough to do his job and ask how he could help.

"Yes, sir, what can I do for you?"

"Can you bring me a pen and some paper?"

"Yes, right away."

As soon as he brought the supplies, Spencer took the pen and began to write his wife, hoping she would listen.

_My beloved,_

_It has come to my attention that you were found in the bed of the lunatic. I will not scold you, for I do not know the whole of circumstances surrounding that night. However, I LOVE YOU!! Please do not underestimate this man: I have heard and learned of atrocities that this man is capable. Please do not start lessons…I beg you! I as your husband am begging you to stop this nonsense. My theater is doing well; we do not need the money at the expense of your life or sanity…Not only is this man intelligent, but he is also amazingly lethal. He is using you! What will it cost you to see that?_

_All my love to you_

_Spence_

Pushing the letter in the pocket of his vest, he got up and went to his small room where he collapsed on the bed in an unfit slumber. He knew that the letter could not be sent until they reached the shore of Spain. They still had a few more days.

Outside on the ship's dock, Raoul leaned against the ship's railing staring out in the moonlit ocean waters. He was physically alone, but the demons were present and refused to leave him in peace. His blue eyes dulled beneath the weight of memories flashing through his mind. His hands still trembled from time to time and his head ached.

Thinking of the masked man only set him on edge. Anger and absolute rage filled the young man's heart, an emotion that he had never felt before Christine and Erik entered his life. All he had wanted was to give her the life she deserved…He tried all that he could to fulfill that and the only thing he received in return was the death of his brother and disappearance of the woman he loved.

Laying his head on his hands while still leaning on the railing, he closed his eyes as tears slipped from them.

---Nadir's Apartment---

"Ah, Dr. Willows, I am glad you decided to come. Please enter. Monsieur Khan is waiting for you in the living quarters. Follow me."

After letting her in, Darius showed her the living room while Nadir sat on the couch sipping herbal tea. Leaving the two in the room, Darius left to go retrieve groceries. With a book in his hand, the only acknowledgement he gave to her was a nod. Sitting down across from his armchair on the couch, she waited for him to speak first.

Setting the book down on the small wooden table, his brown eyes glanced at her, making her feel he was staring at her soul. Cocking his head to the side, he fixed the red sleeve of his robe.

"Do you love your husband?"

Aghast, she retorted, "Of course, I love him very much."

"You broke your promise to him…He knows what you have done. I wrote him."

"Why did you do that? He must be frenzied by now! How could you?"

"No, the better question is how could you…How could you break a promise you made to the man you claim to love? How could you defy his earnest wishes and continue to break the promise?"

"I-I d-don't know…I want to do my job, Nadir. I need to get the answers…Spencer is such a wonderful man and husband. He has done nothing to deserve my betrayal. I must write him at once."

"That will serve no purpose. He and Vicomte de Chagny are on their way as we speak. They should arrive by the end of this week."

"What am I to do?"

"First, let me tell you more about Erik. I suppose I should tell you about how he ensnared many of his victims…How he almost killed me the same way. As you are aware, he had built himself an underground home across the underground lake. The lake was frequently covered by fog, which he used to his advantage. Calling the lake, Lake Averne, on numerous occasions, he would use a trick that he learned from pirates to lure people to its shore."

"What sort of trick did he learn?"

"Ah, he would take a reed and immerse himself into the lake's murky waters. His voice, as you know is very captivating, and he knows it. He would use the reed for air while he would sing. People, unaware of the danger, would use the boat to discover the source of the eerie melody. Then, they would believe it to be coming from the water, so they lean over the boat's edge. Peering in the water, they have no chance because Erik would lunge out of the water with mighty fury, pulling his victims into the water like a flytrap trapping flies. Once they were in the water, he would hold them under the lake until they drowned. When he was holding me beneath the water, we both were thrashing about in Lake Averne when he recognized my voice. Had he not, I would not be here. Pulling me on the shore, he scolded me for my folly. A waterfall of water spilled from his menacing form as he glared at me beneath that black mask and evening suit. Drenched and choking, I did not realize I had nearly succumbed to Erik's Siren."

"I am glad he spared you."

"For nearly two decades, Erik and I have been each other's only companion. He owes me a lot, and he knows this. For now, my life has been spared. Later, I discovered those four stagehands, a beggar, and Raoul's brother Philippe all met their tragic fates this way. Their murderer is the one you claim to have a connection. Will it take someone's death to convince you that you are dead wrong?"

"I must go, Monsieur Khan. Once I find out where Christine is, you will feel foolish for lecturing me. My husband will then trust my judgment."

"Deny it all you want; it's only a matter of time when you will see him for who he really is. I pray to Allah that it will not be too late when you realize this."

He rubbed his dark eyes in exhaustion while Serene gathered her skirts and hat to leave. Before he could stop her, she was gone and he felt the familiar dread that was Erik sank into his heart. Allah only knew how much worse things were about to get.

---Sanitarium---

Stepping into the dark and dank asylum, a once vibrant woman, whose steps now faltered beneath the weight of stressful burdensome years brought, stepped to confront a part of her past she had left behind.

Dressed in an all black dress, signifying her widowhood of nearly a decade, she had aged much since the three years the masked man had resided in the damp asylum. Her piercing black eyes had not lost any light or depth, but her once black hair had begun to fade, as wisps of grey were evident. Her pale porcelain face, once prided as flawless, had developed worry lines that revealed her life of hardship more than words could ever say.

Her small hands calloused from hard labor she had to resort to support her self. Now she stood facing the room where the masked man waited for a meeting with someone from his past.

When she entered, the black mask revealed no emotion, but she caught sight of surprise shining in his gold eyes.

Breathing sharply, "Antoinette…I did not expect to see you again."

Sitting down, she forced a small smile at him. "Come now, Erik, I could never fully abandon you."

"Why have you waited three years to visit me?"

"I needed to establish a life away from Paris before I could come see you."

"How is Megan?"

"She is still at the Populaire, the lead ballerina. She will be marrying a nice boy next week. That is why I am here. Erik, how are you truly?"

"Are you questioning me because you are truly concerned, or are you trying to fish for answers? I am as well as can be expected, but I long for freedom."

"I know how you hate to be confined. If only you…No, I won't pester you for answers that you will not give."

"You were always kind to me, Antoinette. You probably understand me better than anyone does. What can I do for you?"

"I wanted to make sure you are alive and well. I have never wished you to be in pain or agony. I only wished a normal life…"

Suddenly, the masked man became melancholy. "Yes, I know, Antoinette. You always tried to protect me, and for that, Erik will hold you in his heart. I shall be quite fine. Know this: I wish you well. I am happy for Megan as well. She deserves happiness that you and I were not afforded."

Gripping his skeletal hands in her pale ones, Madame Giry looked into the eyes of the masked man.

"Erik, all I have done, I have done in the best interest of all involved."

With that said, she rose and left the masked man befuddled by her strange words.

Outside the sanitarium, Madame Giry passed a young beautiful woman whose head appeared to be flummoxed by some problem. Dr. Serene Willows closed her eyes as heartache throbbed within her being. She missed Spencer so much. Yet, Erik was reaching out to her. This may be the only chance that she may be able to find out what happened to Christine.

Not paying attention, she bumped into another woman. Both tumbled to the ground in an ungraceful heap. Serene profusely apologized for her clumsiness while the other woman just laughed it off. The two stood once more.

"It is truly fine."

"I am so sorry. Some of my problems baffle my head and I was not watching where I was going. You see, I am Dr. Serene Willows."

The girl's eyes widened at the mention of her name. Her dark hair vibrated as her body trembled with some unforeseen revelation.

"You are the doctor of the masked man at Belier Sanitarium. Oh my! I am Megan Giry. I was Christine's best friend."

"What a coincidence! I have been meaning to meet you to talk about Christine."

"Well, I was going home. Why don't you follow me and we will discuss anything you want to know over some tea. I pray you can find out what happened to my best friend, and I will do my part to help."

The two ambled down the Parisian streets towards Meg's quaint apartment to search for some sort of answers that could lead them to the truth.

**Author's Note: Thanks for your patience. I will try not to take so long in updating the next chapter. Perhaps college will not be as chaotic as it has been. Feel free to read and review!**

**On a side note, I would like to mention where I came up with the underground lake's name. In Leroux's _Phantom of the Opera_, there is a section in the "Persian's Tale" where the Persian says that Erik referred to the lake as Lake Averne on several occasions…just a little back story I thought you all would like!**

© Copyright 2007


	7. Chapter 7 The Ambiguity in Truth

_Disclaimer: I absolutely do NOT own, nor do I gain any monetary subsidies, for this fan fiction story. The characters, setting, names belong to the author that created them (Leroux, Kay), BUT the plot is all mine!_

**Author's Note: Hi all, I am back with another long-due update; college turns out to be a lot more work than I anticipated. There is a discussion about truth that I obtained through some college work and independent study. Spencer and Raoul make a pact, Serene and Erik talk about truth, Madame Giry and Nadir touch base, Meg confronts Erik without success, and Darius may prove to be just as underhanded as Erik.**

**Previously on ****Mind of the Misanthrope:**

"_I am so sorry. My head is baffled by some of my problems. You see, I am Dr. Serene Willows."_

_The girl's eyes widened at the mention of her name. Her dark hair vibrated as her body trembled with some unforeseen revelation._

"_You are the doctor of the masked man at Belier Sanitarium. Oh my! I am Megan Giry. I was Christine's best friend."_

_"What a coincidence! I have been meaning to meet you to talk about Christine."_

"_Well, I was going home. Why don't you follow me and we will discuss anything you want to know over some tea. I pray you can find out what happened to my best friend, and I will do my part to help."_

_The two ambled down the Parisian streets towards Meg's quaint apartment to search for some sort of answers that could lead them to the truth. _

_**Chapter Seven- Ambiguity in Truth**_

Thoughts of Erik, the masked phantom, murdering his young wife in a vicious and sadistic fashion plagued Spencer as he downed his fifth glass of brandy for the evening. He could not sleep; his clothes now sagged slightly from the weight that disappeared. His appetite was nonexistent. Without the alcohol he certainly would have lost his mind, but he never drank at all until now.

His mussed golden hair and slightly facial hair growth did not help his tousled appearance as he sat in the ship's lounge with the wealthy and well-dressed. Groaning with frustration, he covered his head with his arms, trying in vain to drown out the thoughts that raced through his head. Suddenly, he tensed as he felt a warm hand on his shoulder but relaxed when Raoul's voice penetrated his contemplation.

"Spencer, I am so sorry that you are suffering so. I just spoke with the captain of the ship, and we will be touching land very soon. It won't be long. We will get to your wife."

A horrible ache developed in the pit of his stomach and spread its way to his chest. He inhaled sharply through his nose to steady his nerves.

"Vicomte, how do I even know if she _is_ alive? The masked man could have killed her by now and escaped the asylum. She probably met the same fate as your fiancée."

Raoul closed his eyes in sorrow as an old wound reopened at the mention of Christine. Pressing his hand to his heart, he tried to still the thundering in his ribs. Spencer shook his head and profusely apologized.

"Monsieur Addams, we have to hope for the best. Your wife is well-trained in her field. Perhaps, she has already outsmarted the phantom. If we expect the worse to happen, then it probably will happen. We must stay positive."

"I know that we must, but I just cannot find the strength within myself. God cannot take her from me. I need her…"

Sighing heavily, he pressed his hot forehead on the cool surface of the table as Raoul sat down beside his new friend.

"Spencer, then you must let me be your strength. I have survived this nightmare before. You are not alone in your suffering. Your wife will be fine. We will make it in time to get her away from Erik."

Spencer's only reply while he stared at the bottom of another empty glass was, "I wish I could be so optimistic."

_---Belier Sanitarium---_

Erik was pacing in his dank dungeon of a room, immersed in his thoughts and plans of escape. He did not even hear the patient's screaming as the attendants shocked the poor man with electricity. Erik was not appeased by Madame Giry's peculiar behavior.

He didn't believe that she would foil his plan, but she was hiding something from him. Having an insatiable curiosity, Erik never did like feeling like he lacked knowledge about someone. Then, there was Nadir. That infernal Persian was suspicious of him. He was watching him like a hawk, anticipating Erik's next move. This infuriated him even more. Suddenly, a vague memory he had suppressed came to him as quick as an epiphany hits an artist who is struggling with the definition of his work.

_The icy gusts of wind blew from the east and up the building past a menacingly tall and lone figure that loomed over the Paris Opera House rooftop from Apollo's Lyre. The black mask hid his face to where only two gold eyes blazed with hostility and hatred down at the people that ignorantly strolled down the street._

_Erik had not the strength to listen or to see Christine since that night on the very same roof nearly five months ago. Time had not been kind nor had it healed the wound that still bled from his heart. He needed repose from his work. __**Don Juan**__ could not give him solace now. It was too late. His hands were covered too deep in blood, the blood of the innocent._

_Below him the opera production was underway; it would only be a matter of time before the body dropped. This was the beginning of the end. It would end all too soon, and if he had anything to say, Christine would become his wife within the end of the week. Regardless, the boy would prove to be a problem._

_Just thinking about the impertinent boy made the masked man clench his teeth in utter rage. His fists balled together so tightly drips of his blood fell to the ground. He tossed his death head back and emitted a cry of rage and anguish in the same. _

"_I see you are upset about something, Erik. Would you like to tell me why?"_

_With a growl of fury, Erik's masked face whirled in wrath to face Nadir and Madame Giry who stood next to each other below him. A twirl of his massive black cloak, he jumped off Apollo's Lyre and fell gracefully down._

_To the two, it looked like a large black demon was rushing to capture their souls. Perhaps they were not entirely inaccurate about this assessment. Both the foreigner and the widow took a step back as the ominous masked man glared at them._

"_What can I do for you two? I have done nothing to warrant such intrusions!"_

_Madame Giry sighed and shook her head while Nadir in his Afghan hat crossed his arms in defiance to Erik's volatile comments._

"_Erik, the body of Joseph Buquet fell and created mass hysteria. You got what you wanted: our attention."_

_He hissed, "What makes you think I was trying to get your attention! I had nothing to do with the stagehand's sudden death! He most likely met a tragic end by getting his leg entangled in the ropes and stumbling over the rail. Simply accidental…"_

_Madame Giry began to cough, bringing out a tissue, and covered her mouth. She pulled the handkerchief away from her face so fast that everyone would have missed the blood on the tissue. However, not everyone was like Erik; his eagle gold eyes caught sight of the red stains immediately._

_With the agility and quickness of a panther, the masked man pushed past the Persian and snatched the cloth from her hands. She sucked in a painful breath and started to cough uncontrollably from being startled. To the men's surprise, she collapsed to her feet and passed out._

_It was then Erik became kinder. In his deep and beautiful voice, Nadir heard the genuine care and concern in his tone as he spoke to her unresponsive form._

"_Oh, Antoinette, why did you not come to me when this started? You know that I have remedies from Turkey and India that work to cure consumption. How long have you been ill?"_

_Turning her head away, she did not meet his eyes. Erik's head cocked to the side as he assessed the extent of her illness by pressing his skeletal gloved hand on her back and felt the deep rumbling of congestion and fluid in her lungs._

_Nadir came to the other side of Madame Giry and supported her. Slowly but surely, Erik realized the gravity of her condition. She was close to death, but the masked man refused to let her die. She had saved his life multiple times, and he would be damned if he would allow her to die. Little Megan Giry needed her mother. Hell, he needed the widow._

_His gold eyes bore into Nadir's, silently communicating in the unspoken language the two shared. The dark-skinned man nodded as Erik lifted Madame Giry's unconscious body in his arms while Nadir led the way off the roof._

_As Erik tended to Madame Giry in a vacant dressing room that was situated in a deserted part of the Opera House, Nadir left to go fetch medical supplies. To the masked man's displeasure, the widow had become delusional due to fever. She began to mutter incoherent phrases, and the lucid phrases she did utter were memories of the past._

"_My little Erik, do not be afraid. I will not leave you to die. I will return to get you from Javert. He will never hurt you again, and once I have you, I will take you to a safe place. My husband and I will be your family."_

_Erik's heart ached at the memory. He had been confined and bound in a cage by the gypsies and their cruel master, Javert. Madame Giry was a beautiful young vibrant woman then. Her husband, Ferdinand Giry, was a good man who helped orphans to find loving homes, and many times he would house them until they became adults. The couple took time out together to attend a carnival that had arrived outside of Paris. That was where they had stumbled upon Erik, who at the time was just a mere boy. _

_Ferdinand had not turned from the sight of his face as the rest of the despicable race had. Years later after his death, Madame Giry told an adult masked man that the reason Ferdinand had not turned away was because his younger brother had been severely disfigured by third degree burns when the estate had burned down. He did not survive._

_However, Ferdinand never lived to see Erik escape the cruelties of the gypsy camp. He was killed when three men mugged him on the side of the road, which was the day, Antoinette found out she was with child. The small boy had escaped the cage that night and bludgeoned Javert to death with the very same club the cruel man used on him whenever he asked for food or water. _

_The next morning, Antoinette came to retrieve the small boy but found he was already long gone. It was by pure chance that their paths crossed again. Because of Antoinette and her husband, the infamous phantom first experienced the kindness and compassion of humanity._

As the memory faded, Erik's mind drifted through a myriad of other memories and thoughts before settling on the present matters at hand. He had to escape soon otherwise he truly would end up mad.

The doctor had yet to come, and this, too unnerved Erik to some degree. Did she finally wise up to his tricks? Had he failed in trying to lure her into his trap? No, he had not failed. He could not fail. He had to get out and he would one way or the other, even if it meant his arms needed to be immersed in bloodshed.

He had no choice but to wait and see if Madame Serene Willows would come to talk to him. If she did, then he still had a chance to escape…and this time, it would be for once and for all.

---Meg's Apartment---

Serene and Meg talked about Christine's odd behavior before she disappeared, but the talk was rather futile. All the information had been in the file and police reports. Serene, with her limited French, found it hard to discuss and discern what Meg said at times; but the two became fast friends despite these setbacks.

Megan Giry was a small brunette with large blue inquisitive doe eyes, and while she might have resembled a child, the experience with masked man had definitely caused her to mature into a young woman.

The pair eventually started to speak about the men in their lives, as females often do when together. Meg seemed intrigued with Spencer Willows, and said she wished she could meet him. A pang of heartache shot through Serene when she thought of her loving husband. She missed him a great deal. He must be on his way now, and she would see him soon. Somehow, a sense of dread filled her, and she did not understand why.

Saying goodbye to her new friend, Serene began to walk down the street, heading to the sanitarium. The day was exceptionally beautiful, the air was crisp but warm and the birds were brightly chirping. People were out at the park just enjoying the gorgeous day.

Suddenly, a memory of a similar day with her husband before their marriage flashed through her mind.

_It was a warm spring morning with a cool breeze and Spencer wanted to take advantage of the wonderful day. Gathering the supplies he needed, he set to work on making a night to remember. Serene had accepted his proposal despite her father's malevolent threats of disinheritance. _

_How he loathed the man! How could a father treat his daughter so despicably just for falling in love with someone! That, Spencer surmised, he would never understand. They had been on train after train trying to elude much of the destruction her father would create at her outright disobedience and scandal. _

_As much as she tried to hide her emotions behind smiles and laughter, he knew that she was miserable. When they finally arrived at their destination, he paid for a couple of nights at a local inn with money he had scraped and saved. She was resting from a long and wearisome day while he went out into the city. _

_He had found a specific area in the park where they could enjoy some time together. Once everything was settled and perfect, he returned back to the inn._

"_Mister Addams, it appears that you are up to something. Where is that lovely young lady that came with you?" The innkeeper, a wizened old man with a scraggly grey beard and roughly patched clothing, asked the younger man._

_"I am planning a romantic afternoon and night for the woman that I love. She is resting, sir. We are getting married tomorrow at the Saint Bernard Chapel. Do you know of a place that I can take her for our wedding night?"_

_The old man smiled a crooked-toothed grin of yellowed, decayed teeth. He nodded and pulled out a large aged box that was covered in dust. Blowing the dust of the box, he chuckled lightly as he opened the lid. Spencer saw a gold glint momentarily before the man pulled out some keys. With a spidery gnarled hand, the elderly innkeeper handed the keys to him before speaking._

"_These keys go to my cottage house outside the city. It resides near the park. Since you are lodging here, I gather you are not a wealthy man. I inherited this house from my mother long ago and have not lived there. My son used to live there since I live in my inn, but unfortunately, he died from consumption while traveling in Turkey two months ago. Virginia is a beautiful land and my cottage house lies right in the middle of her gorgeous scenery."_

_Spencer fingered the keys within his hands. "Sir, you are right. I am not of wealth, and I cannot possibly pay you for this kind offer. How can you allow me this? You do not know me."_

_The wrinkles of the man's face lifted from the sagging folds of his skin as his eyes assessed the young man before answering in a delighted tone, "I do know you. I was you nearly sixty years ago. I was a poor man who was lucky to find a beautiful woman who loved me. You are definitely in love, and I am a sap for the young people and their love. Take and enjoy; stay as long as you like. Here are the directions to the cottage. I keep it furnished and cleaned. You will not be disturbed."_

_Spencer's heart flew within his chest at the kind man's generous offer. Tucking the keys into his pocket, he peered over the directions to the house in the countryside before putting them away as well._

_Opening the door to the room, he quietly walked over to the bed where Serene slept soundly. Sitting on the edge of the bed, he stroked her cheek, whispering, "Angel…sweetheart, wake up for me. I have a wonderful day planned for us."_

_Sleepy green eyes opened and slight confusion reflected in them before they perceived their surroundings. A bright smile lit up her features as she stared up into his smiling face while continued to stroke her face._

_Sitting up she leaned into his embrace with a sigh of contentment. Spencer kissed her forehead lightly before lifting her to her feet. She smoothed out her dress before following him to the worn divan in front of the dank window. When he sat down, she relaxed into his arms, talking about her excitement for the morrow's event. _

"_Serene, my love, I want you to wear a lovely dress and meet me at the park's entrance within the hour. I have a surprise for you."_

_She stared up into his face, brow creased with confusion and wonder. Smiling she nodded at him and snuggled deeper into his arms. Closing her eyes, she heard his heart steadily thump in his chest, giving her comfort._

_Spencer kissed the top of her head before resting his cheek on her crown as he entwined their hands. Whispering in his tender and deep voice, "Angel, I love you…I need you in my life. You spoke for me. I will do anything for you; all you have to do is ask. God created me for you and I thank him everyday for sending me his angel…I…" _

_Tears filled her eyes as he paused because his emotions were choking him. He coughed to suppress the ache that dwelled deep within his throat before he kissed her head again. Disengaging himself from her, he stood up on his feet. _

_His brown suit and white shirt gave him a poetic appeal. Adjusting the collar of the shirt, his hazel eyes gazed adoringly at her. She, too, stood and strode to the closet where her dresses and other garments were to pick out a dress to wear._

_Spencer's eyes were fixed upon the form of the woman he loved, watching her every move…her every breath. She was truly breathtaking. He had to fight the intense urge to spin her around and kiss her deeply, but in the end, he could not help himself._

_Coming up behind her, he wrapped his arms around her waist, startling her slightly. Turning her around, he pushed his body deep into hers while pressing her back against the wall. The burst of heat that pervaded their bodies nearly made them both collapse with want. His heart leapt as she moaned deeply from her throat and her green eyes looked at him through a glaze of desire. _

_When she opened her mouth to speak, Spencer took the opportunity. His lips hungrily descended upon hers; her moan of pleasure fueled him even more. Their tongues collided in a passionate dance as her hands tangled themselves in his chestnut hair while his hands cradled her head so he could kiss her deeper. Her mouth tasted sweet and he was insatiable. He could not be satisfied. Between the ardent displays of love, she moaned his name with adoration and told him how much she loved him._

_Finally, when he could not breathe anymore, he pulled back and pressed his forehead on hers. They both looked at each other, chests heaving. Her lips were red and swollen from his assault on her lips, but she was not one bit upset by it. Sighing with contentment, she pulled him to her and wrapped herself in his embrace. _

"_I love you so much, Spencer. I cannot wait to finally become your wife. It is why I am here."_

_"I feel the same way, sweetheart. This is the beginning of our lives together, and I will make sure you will be happy. As long as I breathe, you will be loved and will not suffer."_

"_Oh, Spencer, all I ever needed was you. I would give up a thousand fortunes if it meant that I can have you as my husband as long as I draw breath."_

_He smiled before kissing her lips briefly as he retrieved his hat. As he gathered the necessary items, he turned to her before speaking with instructions on where exactly the park was and what time he would be there._

_"Good bye my love; I expect to see you at the park's entrance."_

_The door clicked shut as Serene began to get ready. She smiled at the thought of her future husband. He was such a wonderful and loving man. Within the deepest part of her heart, she knew that he would never change…_

What she did not know then was that her husband was slowly unraveling, and he would begin to suffer a devastating breakdown that would test their marriage's foundation. While Serene made her way to meet Dr. Belier, a certain Persian man was catching up with Madame Giry about a certain masked man.

---Nadir's Apartment---

"What do you think our masked man is up to, Monsieur Khan?"

"I am not sure, but I am certain he means to escape."

"He seems to be very sure of himself, and I feared that could only mean he was up to no good. If he does indeed intend to escape, he plans to use that doctor. You must not allow her to be manipulated."

"I am afraid, Madame, it may be too late. She just cannot stay away from him. I tried to warn her, but the woman is determined."

To the dark man's surprise, the widow rushed towards his seated form and grasped his hands while a wild look blazed through her piercing eyes. Her hands grew cold and clammy in his brown ones as she gripped them more.

"No, she mustn't! If he uses her, he will escape; I am sure of it! He will kill her, Monsieur Khan. You must stop him if you cannot stop her!"

Her hysterical words unnerved Nadir, and he felt his police instincts flare with red flags. She was too upset, which could only mean she was hiding something. Holding her hands in his firm ones, he spoke calmly, "Madame is there something I need to know? Do you need to tell me something pertinent?"

The dark haired tied tightly in a bun profusely shook as she said, "No. I am tired of all the bloodshed. I am too old and far to weary to fight to save and protect Erik Desslar. He seems to be incapable of doing what is right."

"Yes, I certainly agree. Trust me, Antoinette; I will do everything in Allah's power to prevent another massacre like the chandelier accident."

The wildness in her eyes subdued as she nodded and sat down in the chair across from his as they sipped some tea. Yet, the hot tea and enjoyable conversation did nothing to soothe their anxieties.

---The First Session---

Serene sat comfortably in a chair when three attendants brought a shackled masked man to sit in a metal chair in front of her. The chains that were wrapped around his limbs were then fastened to the two metal notches nailed in the ground. His straitjacket was fastened tightly around him while an iron mask was placed over his entire head so he could not bite or attack.

Seeing the iron mask that clamped around his entire head, she was quick to object. "Excuse me, how is he supposed to speak to me with that dreadful thing over his head."

He looked twice as menacing because one could only see his piercing gold eyes. Those gold eyes that were always watching perused around the room in such a way, Serene was oddly disturbed.

The three brutish attendants looked at her in annoyance, but then all three and she jumped when Erik's voice boomed through the small grey room.

"It is fine, Dr. Willows. As I am sure that meddling Arabian has told you, I am skilled with throwing my voice where I please."

Pressing her hand to her heart in hopes of steadying it, she nodded to the attendants who then left the two alone. Placing the paper on the small table in front of her, she got ready to write down the notes as the two discussed further.

He watched her with those eerily curious gold eyes before speaking again. This unnerved her to no end; no wonder why those in the opera house feared him. He could make anyone tremble with his very presence much less his voice. His voice commanded attention in and of itself.

"What are we discussing today, doctor? If you think I will speak about my past, then you are searching in vain…"

"I have no wish to tread in those waters, Erik. I simply want to discuss truth."

"Truth? What…Oh, I see. You want me to tell the truth in regards to _her_. Well, I apologize, Dr. Willows, I will tell you nothing as I have told everyone else nothing."

Ignoring his biting sarcasm, she corrected him, "Actually, this has nothing to do with Christine. I wanted to know what you believe truth is. What is truth, Erik?"

A derisive and contemptuously dark laugh emitted from deep within his throat as he mocked the doctor.

"What is truth, eh? Well, I suppose it all depends on one's view of right and wrong. Are you a religious woman, Dr. Willows? What am I saying, of course you are! Did not Pontius Pilate ask that very same question?"

Her green eyes flickered with some unknown emotion that he could not perceive before she nodded in ascertainment. "Yes, Pontius Pilate asked Jesus Christ what was truth in the gospel of John."

"John 18:38 to be exact."

She looked at him in wonder to which he only chuckled without mirth. "Just because I do not believe in your God, Dr. Willows, it does not mean that I should not educate myself in such affairs.

"I agree with you, Erik. I do indeed believe we all should be educated in affairs we do not necessarily believe or approve. Christ said He was truth and in Him truth."

"You are saying that one must know God to know truth?"

"In a way, I am saying that, Erik. Mahatma Ghandi said, 'God is truth. Truth is God.' I do believe that."

"Ah, but Dr. Willows, you must differentiate absolute truth and perceived truth. Plato himself tried to explain perceived truth with _The Allegory of the Cave. _The man was brutally beaten because his truth differed from his peers' version of truth."

"Yes, Erik, you are correct in saying so, but Protagoras claimed that nothing is absolutely good or bad or 'true' or 'false' and that each individual is therefore his or her own final authority. I think that is the theory you operate under."

His gold eyes flared with some emotion before he responded, "No, you are wrong. I find myself leaning towards Friedrich Nietzsche's viewpoint on truth. He views truths as our errors. He disagreed with Plato entirely. He saw that most philosophers love their truths rather than truth itself. We as humans distort truth and that is our error, so inadvertently, our errors become our truths."

"John Locke's version of truth is much simpler. He believed people should think to find truth."

"Yes, but mankind is ignorant and monotonous in following legalities and moral constraints of society than think for themselves. It is then no wonder that truth escapes them."

"It sounds like you believe Alfred North Whitehead's definition of truth also. He believed there are no whole truths; all truths are half-truths. It is trying to treat them as whole truths that play the devil."

His eyes reflected some sadness which confused her, but she assumed she must have triggered a tragic memory of many from his past. He sighed, a strange muffled sound from the iron mask on his head, and then he spoke softly.

"Half-truths…I am so familiar with them." He said no more but he did not have to; she knew he spoke about Christine. After writing down more notes, she pushed them aside. Now was the time to talk human to human and not shrink and patient.

"Erik, can I ask you something?"

"You are going to ask regardless. You want to know if I will answer your question."

"Yes. I wanted to know why you killed Philippe de Chagny. Was it because you wanted to destroy Raoul?"

His fists clenched together in the straitjacket and his jaw clamped shut as he smothered the rage that rose up within him at the stupid boy's name. Speaking in a low growl, "I killed Philippe because he tried to invade my territory. He was the victim of the siren. I cannot help that he was foolish."

"You are lying."

"Watch where you tread, Dr.Willows. Khan dares not to speak of this and you should take heed."

"Erik, you killed him to destroy Raoul. Because he took someone you loved, you determined to take return the favor. That's why you killed his brother. You were jealous because he loved her."

He viciously snarled, "He _stole_ her from me. _I_ **loved **_her! __**ME! He **_could never love her as much as I! He _deserved _to suffer!"

Suddenly, his erratic breathing subsided as he realized what she had done. He spoke with an eerie calm, "Ah, very perceptive, Dr. Willows, you pressed my buttons to get a reaction out of me. It will not happen again."

"I do not know why you think that. I can imagine how painful her betrayal was…"

"You know **nothing**!" He sneered.

"Erik, I do not want to fight with you…I simply want to…"

"What, doctor? You want to get to know me, right? You want to understand my motivations and get me to trust you to tell you what happened to Christine. You are wasting your time. I am through today. Take me back to my hell of a cell now!"

His mocking tone did not help her bitter and miserable mood, so she was very happy to send the masked man off back to his cell while she realized how much she longed to be with her husband, Spencer.

---Alley by the Paris Opera House---

Darius adjusted his white turban while clutching a bag full of items to his chest. He could not afford to be caught. If he did, it would not end well; everything they had been working towards would be all in vain.

Not only would that happen, but their lives would be in jeopardy. The anxiety caused him to withdraw further into the shadows of the alleyway. For twenty minutes, he waited for her to meet him for further instructions.

Suddenly, the light in the alleyway was obstructed by a shadow and Darius looked up and saw it was she. She had come with further instructions to continue with their plan. Handing her the brown leather knapsack, he asked her what he was to do.

"Darius, I want to be constantly informed of Erik's movements. If he as much as steps where he shouldn't, I want to hear. Just make sure he does not hurt that young doctor. Do not let him shed more innocent blood. If he does escape, cover our tracks. I do not want him to know of our plan or involvement."

The young Persian man nodded enthusiastically and responded with an Arabic accent, "Yes, Madame, I will do everything you have asked. I will do whatever is necessary to protect my master. Erik needs to stay in that asylum…I will do whatever it takes…Allah as my witness."

The two nodded and exchanged farewells before the woman left the alley and going east while Darius traveled west down La'Sorella Boulevard. The day had slowly turned to night as the sky darkened to a velvet blue with magenta clouds. The wind's warm breeze now grew colder as the sun left the sky for the moon to take.

---Outside Erik's Cell---

Meg smoothed out the wrinkles in her dress in a futile effort to steady her nerves and pounding heart. To this very day she was still terrified of the masked man, but she felt an obligation to Christine to try and get information on what he did to her.

She was not sure if she even wanted to know what he did do to her best friend. Although she was getting married, there was a large ache in her heart. Christine and she always talked about being in each other's wedding plans and ceremony, but her best friend was gone…never to see her get married.

The light flickered causing her to jump in fright as she saw the ominous cell door to Erik's room. There were three attendants mopping the dirty ceramic floor languidly with a dirty mop, which did nothing except spread the filth around.

She could hear nothing except the blood flow in her head. A sharp pain was beginning to settle itself in between her eyes as she stepped closer to the cell. When she stood in front of his door, she saw the masked man lying recumbent on his cot staring up at the ceiling. Little Meg trembled in fear and disgust as the menacing masked man began to resemble a corpse more and more.

To her astonishment, the Phantom rose in such a way that he bore a resemblance to a transparent apparition that hovered over the grave before vanishing. His eyes held a clairvoyant appeal as his fiery gold eyes caught sight of her face through the glass in the metal door. When he did speak to her, she began to shake despite herself at his dark and deep melodious voice.

He still had the same effect on her as he did three years ago when he terrorized the opera house. The undertones in his voice perturbed her more than any threat he could make, but she found strength within her heart for Christine to face him.

"What can I do for you, little Meg?"

His head cocked to the side at an ungodly angle, and she took a step back from the demonic presence that radiated from him.

"Monsieur Phantom…" 

"Oh come now, little Megan, you know my name. You can call me Erik. Why are you here in this nightmare of a place to see a man…no….a ghost of a man that you loathed?"

"Er-Erik…I wanted to know if Christine is alive or dead."

His intense eyes flared for a brief moment before he collected himself to answer her question in riddles, his infamous mind game. He nodded slightly as the black mask glared at her, causing more fear to ignite within her. His ominous presence and the surroundings did nothing to quell her anxieties, especially when Erik began his mind game with her.

"Oh, little Meg, did you honestly think I would tell you? You are a kind but naïve girl…Does your future husband know that you are visiting a homicidal maniac in the asylum?"

Meg's does eyes widened in shock and absolute fright as she whispered fretfully, "How…how do you know about that? How do you know about Theo?"

Erik grinned beneath the black mask as he tossed his head back and released a frightful and maniacal laugh that caused Meg's legs to tremble in terror. When he looked at her, his eyes blazed with fire as he jeered at her.

"Ah, little Meg, you should know the answer to that question. The Opera Ghost, the Phantom…Erik knows everything!"

Megan Giry never received a straightforward answer to the question she sought as she turned on her heel and bolted out of the asylum when Erik's fanatical laughter reverberated off the walls and into her head. His gold eyes blazed murderously at her as he began to use his ventriloquism to infiltrate her thoughts.

The three attendants that lazily used dirty mops to mop the grimy floor looked at each other briefly before shaking their heads and returning to their work. Erik then went to lie on his cot and stare up at the ceiling with only thoughts of Christine on his mind.

**Author's Note: I apologize this chapter took so long for me to post. What is Erik planning? Stay tuned. Things should get heated before long, especially when Christine enters the story.**

© Copyright 2007


	8. Chapter 8 Prison is Thy Heart's Abode

_Disclaimer: I absolutely do NOT own, nor do I gain any monetary subsidies, for this fan fiction story. The characters, setting, names belong to the author that created them (Leroux, Kay), BUT the plot is all mine!_

**Author's Note: Hi all, I have brought chapter eight after a long time. In this chapter, Serene and Erik talk about love, Nadir tries to get through to Serene, Darius runs into Madame Giry, Spencer and Raoul make it Spain, as Meg receives a letter requesting for her to speak to Serene, and Erik gathers supplies. Again, I remind you that chapter ten is when Erik escapes, and from there, action and drama and romance will begin.**

**Note: There is a significant amount of violence in the first part. Be forewarned.**

**Previously on MMM:**

"_Ah, little Meg, you should know the answer to that question. The Opera Ghost, the Phantom…Erik knows everything!"_

_His gold eyes blazed murderously at her as he began to use his ventriloquism to infiltrate her thoughts. Megan Giry never received a straightforward answer to the question she sought as she turned on her heel and bolted out of the asylum when Erik's fanatical laughter reverberated off the walls and into her head. _

_The three attendants that lazily used dirty mops to mop the grimy floor looked at each other briefly before shaking their heads and returning to their work. Erik then went to lie on his cot and stare up at the ceiling with only thoughts of Christine on his mind._.

_**Chapter Eight- **__**Prison is Thy Heart's Abode**_

Erik gritted his teeth as he felt the painful burning sensation travel through his body as if fire had erupted within his body. Tears stung on the corner of his eyes as the horror of what was being done to him came to reality.

He had been jolted awake and dragged by the attendants to a secluded room. He tried to jerk out of their grasp but that only earned him a brutal blow to the head. His vision faded slightly as his brain tried to regain its senses.

"Go on! Go on yo' ugly bloke!"

Ignoring the gruff fat attendant, Erik's hideous face glanced around at his grim surroundings. His olfactory sense was invaded by the odiously revolting smells of urine, fecal matter, and putrid bodily fluids. They were entering the fifth hall; this was meant for the worst cases—the incurable—of the insane. Suddenly, he knew why he was jerked out of his cell. He was going to be punished.

When he first arrived at Belier, he had been resilient in the punishments. They were meant to break the patient's spirit. However, the former phantom proved to be more defiant. Dr. Belier did not usually promote torture or punishment but the police force in France did. When they were desperate for answers, they would stoop to any low to get them.

A rather complacent fellow, Dr. Belier would allow the police to come in order to retrieve their answers in whatever way they saw fit. Erik was subject to their inquiries and had managed to survive the multitude of torture the police had conjured. From whips to racks to beatings his seditious mentality refused to crack beneath the blows upon his body.

In the first year, they had come to administer beatings and torture weekly, but as time passed the punishments sporadically occurred until in the third year, they had virtually stopped. What had he done to bring them back?

The cries now could be heard. Apparently, he was not the only subject to torture today, and this only caused the dread in his heart to grow. Earlier in his life, he had been the target of torture and humiliation. Javert and the gypsies took pride in beating the young masked boy as a way to vent their anger and drive out evil spirits. Javert himself tried to relieve himself of sexual frustration and Erik, a small but defiant boy, fought back. This only earned him five days without food or water and the inability to move his legs for six weeks.

Erik glanced down at his feet as they switched back to and fro on the filthy tile floor, remembering there had been a time when he was convinced he would never walk again. To that day, he still had the grotesque grey scar that stretched from his left pale ankle to his knee. That had been the one time that he could not hold back his cry.

In the three years of torture from the police, he refused to give those idiots the satisfaction of seeing him cry or scream in agony. The only time he had cried in anguish was when he almost escaped the gypsies but was caught by the ring master's dog.

It had been a particularly rainy day, and his pallid skeletal body was revealed as the precipitation washed away the grime that previously covered him. His face bled after Gourde, a particularly large man with one eye, caught the boy eating a rotten tomato in the cage that they kept young Erik. Javert had ordered the camp to not feed the freak on any condition.

Gourde made him face the wrath when he took out a wine bottle and smashed it. Grabbing a large piece of jagged glass, he stalked towards the trembling boy. Erik huddled in the corner of the cage as far away as possible but was still defiant, sticking out his jaw and looking straight into his punisher's brown eye with fierce temerity.

Swinging open the door to the cage, the boy glanced around his surroundings and developed a plan. The alcohol reeked from the ugly one-eyed man as he snatched Erik by his arm, twisting it painfully.

"I'll teach 'ou a lesson 'ou won't soon forget, boy!"

Raising the shard above his hideous visage, Erik closed his eyes and clenched his teeth when he felt the glass rip open his right cheek. Pain instantly hit him between the eyes and he stifled the hiss of pain. Sucking in air, he opened his eyes, suddenly feeling warmness on his face. Again, he was slashed on the forehead through his eyebrow to the top of the cheekbone on the left.

Somewhere within his soul, he found the strength to fight back. Not even fazed by the blood pouring from his face, he shoved his finger into the last good eye of Gourde's face. The boy's face, bloody and repulsively hideous, contorted with utter rage as he dug his fingernails into the brown eye until he heard it pop.

The large man emitted of cry of anguish as he threw Erik around like a rag doll, but it was no use. Erik refused to let go of the chance of revenge. He laughed at the stupid man whose intelligence lacked.

Finally, the boy realized that he had to run. Dropping from Gourde's grasp, he dashed out of the tent and headed towards the woods. The rain blotted out any sound and his visible sight was diminished, yet he still ran.

The gypsies released the dog and it chased him up a tree where he clung to a large branch that diverged from the main trunk. When he was discovered by the dog, he knew he would pay severely for his attempted revolt and escape. Javert was the one who found him. Even with the struggling, Erik knew he was doomed. Tying a rope around his legs, Javert dragged him back to camp through the muck and moor where the boy was sliced and scratched from the myriad of sticks, rocks, and weeds that was scattered in the wet landscape.

When they arrived back at the campsite, Gourde was being treated although now he had no eyes since the boy had nearly plucked out his one good eye. The fire had been smothered out by the rain, leaving a bleak gray smoke leading up to the sky, and he saw the tents were empty. All the residents of the camp were out to observe Javert's wrath.

Javert Blavatsky was a tall fattish burly man whose clothes were too tight and body odor was horrendous. His black eyes were nearly covered by the black bushes he called eyebrows. His skin had dried scars from lesions and patches of discoloration from tobacco and smoke was spotted on his face. His lips were covered in sores but were also hidden beneath a mass of black beard.

His voice was raw and deep, "Nothin' to say, boy?! I'll teach 'ou a lessin! 'Ou blimey fool to t'ink 'ou can git away!"

Throwing the boy into the mud, the crowd laughed in merriment as Javert began to kick him repeatedly. Erik groaned as he felt a snap in the thoracic region, knowing a rib had broken. Immediately, the bruises started to appear in his white flesh, and he couldn't breathe since the camp master was striking him with utter fury.

When he stopped, the boy silently thanked God until he realized this was only temporary. Snatching the hair on his head, Javert yanked him to his feet and forced him over to the decrepit wooden wagon. Tying his arms to behind his back and letting his legs dangle of the edge. Two men held him on either side.

The boy was slightly confused. This was going to be a new punishment, and one that he truly did not want to suffer. He closed his eyes and wished he could be somewhere else. The kind woman, Madame Giry, had not been back with her husband to see him. Yet, everyday he waited for her to rescue him like she and her husband had promised.

The crowd suddenly cried out in excitement, which caused him to open his eyes. Javert, looking like Goliath, had a massive arm in the air, his hand clutching a dagger. Erik's head lolled back as he sucked in air to prevent him from crying out. His face burned with dried blood and fresh scratches from being dragged along the ground.

As Javert approached, he felt his body grow cold. A sense of impending alarm flooded his senses and it took much strength to swallow his fear. Steeling his nerves, the boy met the master's cruel eyes with such defiance that it caused the large man to hesitate for a moment. Where did this insolent, ugly freak get such courage?

It did not matter, for the master always had the upper hand. Javert chuckled darkly before he motioned to the lithe man on the left that currently was holding Erik's left side. The young boy said nothing and watched as his leg was lifted up in the air.

Javert's sinister sneer was only enlarged as the crowd began to chant for the punishment to continue. Taking the dagger, young Erik's fiery gold eyes followed the silver glint as it descended towards his outstretched limb.

Before he took action, the burly camp master exclaimed, "Boy, 'ou will never try to 'scape 'gin…Because 'our leg will never work so 'ou can run!"

With his entire might, Javert jabbed the dagger into the boy's ankle. Erik, although he tried to smother any cry, he failed miserably. His entire mouth opened as a guttural agony-filled scream erupted as the blood erupted from his ankle. The crowd burst out with a simultaneous cry of pleasure, resembling the Roman multitude when they observed lions tearing apart peasants.

Oh no, Javert was not finished making him suffer. Hot tears poured down the young boy's hideously bloodied face as he kept screaming, feeling his entire leg explode with fire. The mob's cheers increased in volume until they became a steady roar in the air.

Pressing the knife deeper into the flesh, blood poured out and mixed with the mud puddles, leaving the boy's body tense in agony. The rain began to wash the wound, only to have more blood to come out. Suddenly, Javert, whose face was contorted with twisted perverted pleasure, yanked the dagger up into Erik's leg.

By now, the boy's screams had become hoarsely uttered snivels. His eyes were wide with agony and rage, and while he thrashed about in a vain attempt to stop the incredible throbbing in his bleeding leg, he could not cease the torture. Nausea filled his stomach, and he wished more than anything to vomit just to alleviate some of the discomfort he felt.

Pulling the dagger up from his ankle to his knee, Erik's tears could no longer fall and his voice was raw from the constant shrieks of suffering. His entire leg was now open and the bone could be seen beneath the reddish pink muscle tissue. The blood was constantly washed away by rain, causing the boy to become light-headed from blood loss.

The mass began to disperse as the camp master ordered them back to work. The young boy shivered from a combination of blood loss, pain, and cold. His leg throbbed with unbearable pain as he let out a consistent moan.

No amount of vigor was left in his weakened body. The master ordered the two men to throw him back in the cage with some water and a stale piece of bread. Erik's eyes began to roll up into his head, his vision fading in and out as he fought to stay alive.

He gave one last cry as he was tossed into the cage, his leg dangled on the cold metal floor uselessly. The two men left him alone to huddle in the corner of his place of confinement in the fetal position while they laughed. He had no cloth or clothing to stop the blood loss or cover the wound.

He was sure he was going to die. If he did not die, then his life would be useless; he would not be able to walk normally again. He cringed when the tent flap's rustling sound indicated that someone was entering.

Closing his eyes, he slipped into unconsciousness as his body was left vulnerable to the infiltrator. The camp's oldest resident was a gypsy named Katarina Lavry, whose experience in foreign herbs surpassed any doctor's knowledge in conventional medicine. She had entered to aid in Erik's healing process.

With her compassion, he was able to avoid losing his leg to infection and gradually learned to walk again without hindrances. Secretly, she would sneak him out of the cage to teach him how to stay on his feet with solidity.

Even though he eventually forgot how much pain he had suffered, he was reminded occasionally. Whenever it was cold, a dull ache would begin pounding in his shin. The scar remained the one testimony to only part of the torture he had been subjected to in his lifetime, so he wondered what he would suffer now.

He was shoved violently towards Room #30, a place he was all too accustomed. There were four police officers, two attendants, and Dr. Belier waiting in the white-washed room where he was thrown on the floor.

"Welcome back, Desslar, Opera Ghost, Angel of Music, or whoever the hell you are. How is the most infamous patient in France?"

The pale patches of taut flesh developed a slight pinkish hue as rage filled his entire being. Swallowing the biting remarks that threatened to come out, he merely chuckled darkly. The two attendants jerked him to his feet and forced him to sit in a wooden chair, creaking as he did so.

As the assistants were chaining his legs and arms to the floor, Erik looked at the doctor and the law enforcement officers. In the hands of the policemen were a funnel, a jug of water, and cloth.

A tremendous sensation of panic filled his abdomen, and he knew that this was not going to be good. The last time he had this feeling was when Christine removed his mask that fateful night. Closing his eyes, he steeled his nerves. He would **never** give these fools the answers they wanted. **Never**!

The captain, Armand Agnew, was a relatively short man with a brown wig and the blue uniform exposed his high status. His temperament was much like Erik's, which meant a short fuse easily lit and explosive. Piercing blue eyes and high cheekbones gave him a feminine quality but his thin lips and tight jaw set definitely revealed his masculinity.

"Ah, Erik, isn't it? It has been a long time…" 

"Not long enough…"

The captain merely smiled but the annoyance was evident in his eyes. Nodding to the three colleagues, Captain Armand folded his arms behind his back as the six others left the room. Erik merely rolled his eyes, knowing he was about to be questioned.

"So, Monsieur Desslar, are you going to tell me what I want to know."

"I will never give you what you want, Agnew. You will never know what happened to Christine."

"No, I am afraid you misunderstood me, Erik. I am here to ask you why you are suddenly opening up to young Madame Willows. You do not have any connection to her. Are you planning to hurt her?"

"That, _sir,_ is none of your damn version!"

Rage coursed through the officer's eyes and he slammed his fist into the masked man's cheek. Erik groaned as porcelain shattered into his yellowed flesh of his disfigured face. Blood dripped onto his lap, but he regained composure and glared at the captain, remaining silent.

"She is married, Desslar. Her husband will arrive shortly, and he will take her away. Whatever your plan, you must end it because it is useless. Her husband will make sure you will not come near her ever!"

The former opera ghost was surprised by this news and bothered slightly that this could ruin his chance to escape. Obviously, he would have to bump up his plan to breakout of the asylum with Willows. Yet, he was glad that the idiotic captain had revealed valuable information that would only work to serve Erik's interests.

"Tell me, Erik. Do you plan on telling me what your intentions to the beautiful doctor are?"

"Go to hell!" He spat venomously.

"Very well, Desslar. Have it your way."

Opening the door, he called back the police officers and Dr. Belier. Once they returned to the room, the captain ordered for preparations. The three police officers approached and one held his head. Another placed cloth on his nose where he could not breathe except through his mouth.

The last officer, as Captain Agnew observed, came and placed a funnel in his mouth. Erik could not move his head, and was partially alarmed with what was about to transpire. His gold eyes darted to the captain, wondering what he was planning.

"This is your last chance to tell me what you plan on doing to Madame Willows. Or you can tell me what happened to Christine. What is your decision?"

The masked man squinted at the man with utter hatred before shaking his head in the negative. Using his ventriloquism, he sent his booming voice around the room causing the men to shudder slightly, "Burn in hell!"

Anger flashed through the officer's features before nodding to his men. Erik merely looked at Dr. Belier, who casually stood and observed the whole illegal incident without protest. He vowed to make the doctor pay for his insolence when he escaped.

Helpless to stop anything from transpiring, his gold eyes flickered angrily, watching the captain smile arrogantly as a subordinate officer approached with the jug of water. While one held Erik's head firmly in place, another held the funnel in his mouth and covering his nose; finally, the other man began pouring the water in the funnel all at once.

Immediately, the masked man felt air vacate his body and tears instantly poured from his eyes. The water had violently penetrated his throat to the point of suffocation. He dug his nails in the wood so hard that splinters pierced his skin like small needles in his flesh. Slowly, everything slowed down and his eyes began to lose focus.

His fear surprisingly began to dissipate as he felt an ethereal feeling apart from his body. His mind screamed for his body to react to this simulated drowning while his lungs burned for oxygen. He could not do anything except swallow the water in the jug in huge gulps so that he could avoid choking to death.

Unfortunately, his stomach began to expand painfully to sustain the vast amount of water that powerfully entered. The bile was beginning to rise against the water; he tried to force it back down but it was a hard battle. He glared at the men who were laughing at his pathetic attempt to breathe resulting in him ultimately choking on the water.

The captain nodded towards the man holding the funnel who removed the apparatus. As soon as the device was taken away, Erik's body retched painfully as his jaw forcefully locked into place. He knew what was going to happen, and then the bile shot through his body instantaneously to release a river of yellow-green vomit all over himself and the man holding his head in place.

With small satisfaction at revenge, Erik was glad he regurgitated all over on one of the men while his body painfully sucked in breaths. The captain and doctor peered down on him with piteous disgust before Captain Agnew nodded for them to simulate the drowning again.

Closing his eyes, he prayed to whatever ethereal embodiment in the heavens to make this torture stop. To his surprise, his prayer was answered when the door was propelled open.

"Stop this nonsense this instant!"

His head was let go and he was able to move to face his rescuer. It was Nadir and Serene; surprised, he wondered why they had come to end his torment.

----On the shores of Spain----

Spencer and Raoul could not have been more joyous when their shoes made contact with the Spanish shoreline. Both men had spent the last few days apart and alone, both lost in the memories of the past.

The beautiful scenery and gorgeous women around them did not alleviate the growing aches in their heart. A good and moralistic man like Spencer could not help but be angry with the masked stranger because the woman he loved failed to see how lethal he was.

Raoul grabbed his arm and led him to the awaiting carriage. Once the luggage was loaded and the men were sitting across each other in the stagecoach in silence. The Vicomte briefly spoke to the driver before the coach took off.

"We are getting closer to your wife. Is there something I can do for you?"

Spencer's hazel eyes sadly looked at his comrade in resignation before he flexed his muscles, knowing this conversation might not end well.

"Do you think Christine had feelings for this Erik?"

Spencer sucked in a painful gulp of air, knowing he had just unleashed the demons from Pandora's Box. Raoul's visceral reaction was to smash his fist into the older man's face, but he refrained himself from doing so if only for the sake of friendship.

While he could stop himself from physically attacking his friend, he failed to keep the spite out of his tone when he responded to the question.

"She never said she had any feelings, especially romantic ones, for the masked murderer. She acknowledged that he had manipulated her and lied to her about being the Angel of Music. However, I knew there was always something between the two."

"Did you ask if she loved him?"

"She denied that she loved him, and she wanted to marry me. We were planning a beautiful life together, and it was all ruined by that monster! She would be with me…she would be safe with me…"

His voice began to falter as the ache overcame his throat and tears pooled into his eyes. Spencer leaned over and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. What little strength and resolve that existed within Spencer left his body and flooded into the Vicomte. As the two bonded even closer, Nadir's friendship with Serene started to develop cracks.

----Nadir's Apartment---

Once Erik was abandoned in his cell, he rested on his cot after the ordeal of torture he had endured. Nadir said nothing but his dark-skinned face was etched with irritation, and she knew that he was annoyed with her.

He invited her to his apartment to discuss Erik and she accepted. Although she was determined to have another session with him, she was willing to listen to what the Persian man had to say. After all, he had her best interests at heart.

Darius chauffeured them into the living quarters of the quaint apartment. Serene sat down on the divan while the Persian sat in his usual armchair. Gently removing the Afghan hat from his balding head, his piercing black eyes bore deep into her sparkling emerald ones. The dark circles underneath his eyes only increased as the stress had finally caught up with his aging body. All of his mentality and posture indicated agitation, and Serene got the impression it was all because of her.

Pressing his fingers together, he pointedly looked at her before speaking in a heavily Arabic accent, "While I am glad you informed me of Erik's less than humane treatment, Dr. Willows, I was told that you met with him against orders. You knew that I was to be in the room."

"He would not have spoken if you had been there. It would jeopardize my case…"

"Do you not see that he is playing with you? He is in control of the situation, not you. He is using you and you fail to see it. You are playing with fire…"

"I assure you, Monsieur Khan, that I am not an infant that just came from the womb; I am a well-trained doctor. I know what I am doing."

"Ah, a doctor you are. You very much know what you are doing, but the problem herein lays the fact that _he_ knows what you are doing, too. While he is in an asylum, he is not mentally incapacitated; he knows what he is doing. He is very deceptive and convincingly manipulative; you are falling for his trap."

"I know he is playing with me, but he has revealed more to me than he intended." 

"He will never reveal what happened to Christine. Never."

"Just because you gave up on him does not mean I have to do it, too."

The black eyes flickered with annoyance then understanding as he realized the gravity of Erik's subterfuge that had ensnared her.

"Ah, I see that you have fallen for his charm. You have fallen for his wit. While I cannot stop you from meeting with him, I _keenly _advise you to stop before he completely takes over you."

"Thank you for your concern, albeit it needless. I know what I am doing. Erik _will_ ultimately slip up and when he does, Paris will have the answer to what happened to its lovely opera singer."

As she walked out the door, Nadir pressed his wearied head into his arms. Darius, who walked Madame Willows out the door, came back and saw his beloved master in turmoil. Immediately, he understood that he would do whatever it took to keep his master from ever worrying again.

---Opera House---

Little Meg Giry rushed to the dressing room to get away from her mother's watchful eyes. While her mother was observing the new additions to the ballet corps, a man had handed her a letter from Raoul de Chagny. Knowing she could not give this information to her mother, she feigned a hurt ankle before returning to the dressing room to read the letter.

When she locked the door, she rushed to the dresser where she tore open the seal to read the letter with the familiar legible handwriting of the Vicomte.

_Little Megan Giry,_

_I write to you with greatest urgency on behalf of M. Spencer Willows. You must convince his wife to STOP seeing the masked man. She is blinded by that man's manipulations, and only you can get through to her. She will not listen to Nadir Khan; she will probably listen to you. Please do whatever it takes to keep her away from him. Her husband is slowly losing his mind over this. Tell her he is coming apart and if she does not stop having sessions with Erik alone, she will cause her husband a mental breakdown. Please, Megan, you are the only chance we have left otherwise it will not matter that we are coming as fast as we can._

_Sincerely,_

_Vicomte Raoul de Chagny_

Megan quietly put the letter in one of her drawers underneath some undergarments before returning back to the ballet rehearsal. While she threw herself into her passion, she determined to do whatever it took to convince her new friend that her husband's health was at stake. Surely that would stop her from making such a horrendous mistake.

While little Meg lost herself to the music, her mother had made an exit to the lobby of the Opera House. There was a business meeting underway and all of the socialites were there discussing commercial and partnership ventures. Amidst the crowd, she quickly blended with the crowd as a young Arab boy came to meet her.

"Hello Madame Giry. It is nice to see you. How is your daughter?"

"I am fine, Darius. She is doing great. I am going to return back home in Spain, but I expect you to keep me updated about Erik in case I must return. If anything happens to the doctor, you make sure she does not get killed." 

"My duty is to my master and any friend of his is someone I will protect. You have my word that Dr. Willows and Nadir and Meg will all be protected as long as I walk this earth. Allah, help us all if he escapes."

Madame Giry could only nod in agreement before saying goodbye then leaving the opera house to return back to her new home. She hoped that Erik would not do anything that could lead to more innocent people's deaths.

---Later that day in Belier Sanitarium---

Erik's throat was raw and irritated from the vomiting due to the torture session earlier that day. He had fallen asleep for the first time in four days and now he was reenergized. Soon after he woke up, he wriggled out of the straitjacket and traveled to the door cautiously. Peering through the glass window, he saw that the hallways were empty, perfect for him to gather supplies.

Picking the lock with a pin he had stolen previously, he opened the door as quietly as possible before blending in the shadows. Lunchtime was occurring, so there were no attendants roaming the hall. Most of the patients had eaten the vulgar food laced with laudanum, which caused them to sleep. Because of this, the attendants believed it safe to leave the halls. They did not account for a very sane masked man whose intellectual level far surpassed theirs twice over.

Peeking around the corner of a white wall, he saw that the supply closet was open and waited as the man walked away from the room with lunch in hand. As he exited the building, Erik rushed towards the room.

The medical supplies, clothes, laudanum, and other items were displayed neatly on the shelves. 'Stupid fools,' Erik thought sardonically before he retrieved all of the provisions he needed to facilitate the escape. Holding them close in his arms, he swiftly darted back to the room undetected.

Promptly upon arriving back into the cell, he closed the door behind him and placed the provisions in the tile where he kept his journal as well another vacant area covered by a tile he had removed earlier. Replacing the tiles, he put the straitjacket back on and returned to the cot to keep the appearance that nothing had occurred.

Before he could dream about Christine, he was jostled awake by a large brusque attendant and taken to the same room where he had previously been that morning with the Captain. Sitting in the chair, he merely acquiesced as his arms and legs were shackled to the floor by chains. Then, the gruff man left him alone.

Groaning inwardly, he wondered what this torture would be now. Suddenly the door opened and Serene Willows walked in. Taking off her gloves and hat, she pulled a chair to sit down in front of him with some paper and a pen in one hand.

Smiling brightly at him, she greeted him congenially, "Good afternoon, Monsieur Desslar. I hope you have recuperated from that unfortunate incident earlier."

Erik's black mask created that menacing aura, due to the shielding of his facial features and the glowering countenance it portrayed. Beneath the mask, he scowled at her bright ambiance but he was curious as to what they would talk about today.

"I wanted to discuss with you on the topics of judgment and love. Two subjects I presume you are all too familiar. Nadir has warned me time and time again how dangerous you are. Are you playing mind games with me, Monsieur Desslar?"

He inwardly cursed the Daroga in several languages, but took this opportunity to convince her of his 'good' intentions.

"Why would I play mind games? Why would I want to do the same thing that got me into this hell?"

She nodded before writing down something on the piece of paper. His gold eyes stared at her intently. How he wished Christine was with him. She always brightened even the darkest of days he had endured.

Her brown hair was pulled up into a bun with some long strands to frame her circular face. Dressed in a light blue dress which was typical of those in France, she looked radiant. She was beautiful, but failed in comparison to _his_ Christine. Sighing heavily, he adjusted his sitting position to become more comfortable just as she winced.

Immediately noticing, he asked in his deeply beautiful melodic voice, "Are you in pain?"

With a wave of her hand, she replied, "I am fine. It is just these…damn corsets…"

His eyes widened with surprise before he laughed out loud. As much as he did not want to laugh, he could not help himself. She had caught him off guard. She chuckled slightly, surprised to hear such a beautiful deep guttural laugh before asking him something else.

"Erik, I have been told of your large heart. Why have you let mankind dictate what you do and who you are?"

Anger coursed through his eyes and blood rushed to the yellow parchment-like skin on his face at the assumption.

Growling, he clenched his teeth in rage, "You, spitfire, have much gumption to _dare_ to say such a thing to me. I _do_ whatever _I _please! _No one_ dictates who I am; I am my own master! No one has the power over me!"

Sighing, she only responded, "Sure they do. Look, Erik, I hate judgments as much as you do. Your entire life…"

"You know nothing of my life!" He spat venomously.

"Let me finish. Your entire life has been filled with torture, misery, and heartache. Because of your deformity, people who lack any intellect judge you immediately. Because they do not understand you, they call you names like demon, monster, freak, and Death himself. At first, you struggled to maintain your own identity, but as time goes by, you start to believe that you truly are a demon, monster, freak, and Death. After all, you have heard this all your life. Suddenly, you realize that since you are all of these things, you surely should act like a demon or Death. When you first started, whether lying, cheating, stealing, and even murdering; your conscience screamed at you that it was not right. Over time, that voice was smothered beneath the weight of your agony until it suffocated entirely from the unbearable pain. What you did not account for was when your conscience came screaming back. The moment you recognized that you were in love with Christine; you felt the right and wrong come back. You wanted to prove to her that you were not a monster or murderer but simply a man in love. The more you tried to show her that you were merely a man, the more you failed because you could not figure out a way to become someone that you used to be. So long have you suffered the charade of a monster, you lost your identity. That is the tragedy of judgment."

Taking a break, she paused, waiting for him to respond. His breath was taken away. How accurate she had been! Yet, he remained stoic as a multitude of feelings flooded through his heart. How he wished that Christine could have seen that. Things would have turned out way different.

"What you have said is true. I have murdered, so that makes me a murderer, does it not? I have sinned. Does that not make me a sinner? These judgments would be accurate."

Smiling that adorable smile, she spoke softly then as passion filled her, her voice became louder while blood filled her face. "Judgments have longed plagued me. I hate when other people judge me or people I love. My husband was destitute and poor. Did that make him not human? No, but people believed he was not worth anything. I was labeled a rich brat, but I walked away from my fortune. That was a false judgment. I believe in God. He is the only one who can judge mankind. He knows what is in each man and woman's heart, and therefore, can judge righteously. Rest assured that those who have judged us unfairly, God will render the same unfair judgment to them. I take comfort in that. I do not believe you are a demon, Erik. Your face was caused by something medically, not a curse from God or Satan."

"Sounds like a Protestant concept. Obviously you are not Catholic or Anglican."

"No, I grew tired of the sects and various religious institutes. I merely look at the Bible and trust in God to lead me to the right path. It has worked for me."

"But is that not a judgment in and of it self? When you look at the Bible, read it, then apply it to your life; do you not live your life according to your perception of what the Bible says?"

"I definitely have thought that at one time, but I believe prayer makes a difference. Instead of letting my perceptions define God and His Word, I prayed to God to let Him define my perception _through_ His word."

Cocking his head to the side, his gold eyes looked at her intently. If his hands were free, he would have pressed his fingers together in contemplative thought. Smiling in his way, the corners of his mouth upturned slightly, he replied to her answer.

"You are like no other woman I have met. Your husband is lucky to have you. You have such intelligence and insight that I had long thought were perished on this earth years ago. This gives me hope that perhaps not all mankind is the same. I wish Christine could have seen me as a man."

Her eyes twinkled and Erik tensed immediately, realizing his error. He had said _her_ name…the woman who still captured his heart to that very moment. Closing his eyes, he sighed heavily as the weight of her name crashed upon his heart.

"You love her very much."

Her faint voice brought him out of his reverie and he could only nod in assent. His throat now burned with the ache of tears.

"Yes, she is and always will be the owner of my heart. I will always love her. As long as I live and draw breath, she will be loved."

"I am sure she knows that." 

Snorting derisively, he spat back, "Hardly! She was going to leave me for that…damn boy!"

His nostrils flared in his rage while his fists clenched even tighter. She nodded briefly before speaking gently.

"Erik, may I be honest with you? If I am, will you return the favor?"

"I cannot promise anything, but I may."

She smiled softly, "I suppose that will have to suffice. I have read all of the reports…I have also found this."

Lifting up his journal Erik's eyes widened, fearing she had seen the supplies for the escape. However, he remembered he had stuck it under his cot because an attendant caught him off guard and he had to hurriedly put it somewhere. Growling, he lunged forward because fear gripped his heart. His privacy had been invaded like his underground home. He lost everything before; he refused to lose his last connection to Christine.

"Give that back now."

His voice was deadly calm, but the dark undertones revealed more than the words. She opened it to a particular page. Taking an excerpt from his musings and past memories, she read it aloud. Instantly, he stilled and closed his eyes, allowing himself to be lost in the daydream.

"Two months into your confinement, you wrote:

_Sixty-one days of imprisonment…Not of my physical being. I could always survive the hell that mankind puts his fellow members through. The imprisonment I feel is because of my heart. Truly, I have come to know that true love is the prison warden that invites you in to see the prison. Prison, which I can compare to love, is an element you have never seen or felt before. That damn curiosity, which always hurts me or others, lures you to see the prison and what is so compelling about it. As you enter the prison, doubt begins to settle in. This is analogical of first falling in love. You have doubts as to whether this is reality or the truth. As you go deeper and deeper into the prison, you understand that you will not be able to turn back and you are left to fall deeper into the prison just like falling in love. You can never go back._

_As time goes on, you begin to feel fatigue and you must decide whether to stay confined or to continue on to an unknown destination. When you are in love, you can either choose to walk away from fear of commitment or continue on to see if this person is your true love. Many people fear this because they do not want to go so far to find out that they had been wrong about this person. Yet, I, never been the one to walk away, forged on. Finally, you reach the end and find only an awaiting cell…_"

"Erik, you never finished this excerpt. What does the cell represent?"

Smirking with cleverness, he simply responded, "The cell represents the deepest part of your heart. In other words, it represents the fact that I am a prisoner of my own heart."

Nodding, he saw the tears fall from her eyes. Before he could question her, she bolted out of the room. Confounded, he remained where he was until he was taken back to his room. After he made sure that his supplies had not been discovered, he laid down on the cot. That was when it hit him; she still had his journal.

**Author's Note: I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I tried to compact all elements into this specific topic. The views on judgment and love (which I equated to a prison) are representative of my own. Thanks for the people who reviewed. Please let me know what you all thought of this particular chapter. Erik escapes in Chapter 10…Christine will be there too! R&R please!**

**Sincerely yours,**

**RainsP.**

© Copyright 2007


	9. Chapter 9 Down the Broken Road

_Disclaimer: I absolutely do NOT own, nor do I gain any monetary subsidies, for this fan fiction story. The characters, setting, names belong to the author that created them (Leroux, Kay), BUT the plot is all mine!_

**Author's Note: Hello everyone! I am glad to receive more reviews and readers. Hopefully, I will not let you all down. In this chapter, there is a definite E/C flashback, which will definitely gladden some people. Next chapter, ERIK ESCAPES! Christine also enters the story, too! **

_**Chapter Nine- Down the Broken Road**_

_Four years prior…_

_Christine's mind was in turmoil. Raoul was ushering the police and the managers into his plan to kill Erik. Tears were a constant in her eyes these days, the only indicator of the tumultuous feelings that dominated her aching heart._

_Despite Erik's misdeeds, he had been such a comforting presence in her life. She could not shake the guilt that filled her when she contemplated the betrayal she could be committing to a man who only wanted to be loved for himself. _

_The Masquerade only heightened her awareness to the immense agony he felt in his own heart, alerting her to the fact he had indeed heard her talking to Raoul on the rooftop. To her surprise, her masked music maestro had seemingly vanished without a trace for nearly six months. She had nearly been driven to the brinks of insanity by his sudden absence from her life._

_Then, she felt anger. How dare he leave her? He promised! He promised! She knew that she should not feel it, but she felt betrayed by his disappearance. Sitting down on the side of her bed, Christine knew she could not wait any longer. She determined she must see him…_

_Using a trapdoor she had seen him use on other occasions, she traveled through the familiar dank and foreboding corridors and cellars with a torch, the only source of light, until she reached the lake's shorelines._

_Using the boat that was tied to the dock, she carefully rowed with the large oar to his awaiting home on the other side. As soon as the boat stopped moving, she rushed down the dock to his front door. Beating it with her small and frail fists, she screamed for him to open the door. When she received no answer, it only intensified her anger. Banging the door, all of the emotions in her came flooding out._

_Screaming at him, Christine did not care about the consequences of her actions for once. "Erik! Open this door at once! You are such a fool! How dare you abandon me? You are a coward! Come and face me now!"_

_She fell back in shock and a cry of disbelief when the door violently swung open to reveal a haggard looking Persian man. Pushing past the foreigner, utter fear replaced her anger at the realization Erik was in trouble. He would not have let anyone else intrude in his home unless he was in grave danger._

"_Mademoiselle Daae, you must be quiet lest you should wake him up. You need to leave; your presence will only worsen his condition."_

_Turning around to face the grim face of the man, her eyes were wide with concern. Wringing her hands, she looked like a lost child, perhaps a very apt description. He put a finger to his lips and motioned towards the other room in order to talk. _

_Casting a longing look to Erik's room, she shook her head and begrudgingly trailed after the Persian man into the study. Closing the door, he offered her a place to sit down and some tea. So nervous was she, she could not even take a sip of the warm herbal tea. Setting it down on the mahogany table in front of her, her eyes watched the Persian sit down on the edge of Erik's immense oak desk like an irritated father._

_Folding his hands together in his lap, his piercing black eyes bore into hers, causing an uncomfortable resemblance to Erik's pointed gaze. Christine pressed a small hand on her forehead before steeling her nerves. However, the concern was undeniably in her voice when she asked what was wrong with her teacher._

_The Arab sighed disheartened by the whole situation and decided to be honest with her, despite the nagging feeling in his chest that it was not a wise choice._

"_I am afraid Erik has fallen ill with infection. As you know, your fiancé shot him in the alleyway a while ago. He was taking care of the wound up until recently. I found him collapsed in the cellar, face down in the grimy mud four months ago. Rats had already begun to gnaw on the wound that had apparently reopened. I dragged him back to his home and have done what I could to prevent him from dying. I am fearful that he _will_ indeed die; he seems to have no will to live. Madame Giry and I have taken turns caring for his wound and trying to kill the infection, but his apathy to life will cause our efforts to be futile. He was conscious for the first two months, but he slowly slipped into a half conscious state last month. At this point, I do not doubt he is trying to slip away permanently."_

_Before he could get another word out, the young woman bolted to Erik's room. She was too quick for him to try and stop her. He could only voice his protest, but it was too late. Shutting the masked man's door, she locked it so that the foreigner could not enter while she tried to talk some sense to Erik._

_Turning around and resting her back against the door, she inhaled deeply. She was unnerved by her maestro's lit room; normally, he kept his room dark, but her main focus was on his declining health not the lights._

_Looking to the coffin-bed, she worried over what horror she might see, but she had to do it for him. Walking over to his bed, the only sound in the room was the rustling of her skirts. When she reached the destination, she peered into it and saw her maestro's pitiful condition._

_Pressing a hand over her mouth to stop the shock from coming out of her mouth, she closed her eyes to prevent the tears from coming out. His mask was off and his horrid face was revealed, but that was not what shocked her. Opening her eyes, she gazed over him without fear of hurting him like the last time she saw him unmasked._

_An eerie tranquility had settled over his disfigured features. Dressed in his fine black silk pajamas, his hands were crossed over his chest, resembling a corpse ready to be buried. His breaths were coming in short pants with a raspy sound that confirmed the Persian's story of infection. _

_Because his eyes were closed, it looked like a skull with no eyes peered back at her, but she knew his beautiful eyes were there. She wished they would open to look at her in that familiar omniscient gaze. His taut yellowed flesh of his face twitched as he dreamt of his music, she no doubt conjectured. The blood vessels in his face were even more so apparent in the light, and she felt pity no matter how much she tried to fight it._

_His white lips were firmly set, similar to the way they did when he was frustrated or contemplating. Biting her bottom lip, she nervously pressed a small pale hand on his forehead and immediately noticed how feverish he was. _

_Sighing, she finally comprehended at how grave his condition truly was. He would or could die at any moment, and she would be left alone. At first, she spoke some soothing phrases; however, she was left unsatisfied at this because she felt he was not listening._

_Praying to God, she hoped that here was something she could do to help her teacher. All of the sudden, it hit her: singing. Her voice would not only appease him, but it would give him the strength to come back to her. Opening her mouth, she let the words flow from her lips, wishing they would reach his heart._

_**I've been so many places in my life and time**_

_**I've sung a lot of songs; I've made some bad rhyme**_

_**I've acted out my love in stages**_

_**With ten thousand people watching**_

_**But we're alone now and I'm singing this song for you**_

_**I know your image of me is what I hope to be**_

_**I've treated you unkindly but darling can't you see**_

_**There's no one more important to me**_

_**Daring can't you please see through me**_

_**We're alone now and I'm singing this song for you**_

_**You taught me precious secrets of the truth withholding nothing**_

_**You came out in front and I was hiding**_

_**But now I'm so much better and if my words don't come together**_

_**Listen to the melody cause my love is in there hiding**_

_**I love you in place where there's no space or time**_

_**I love you for in my life you are a friend of mine**_

_**And when my life is over remember when we were together**_

_**We were alone and I was singing this song for you**_

_**We were alone and I was singing this song for you**_

**(Author's Note: Celine Dion "A Song for You")**

_Her eyes were closed as the song's melody ebbed away, but her tears still rolled down her cheeks. Her breath halted instantly within her chest as she felt icicles caress her jaw line, and she opened her eyes to see the flaring gold eyes staring back at her. _

_With a cry of utter joy, she wrapped her arms around his even thinner frame. Erik, still weak from illness and fever, enfolded his trembling arms around her shoulders. He shakily inhaled her scent of vanilla and roses as he pressed his hollowed yellow cheek atop the crown of her head. _

_They said mum for several minutes as they held each other to comfort and to gather courage. Once they pulled away, they merely gazed into each other's eyes in silence. With her help, Erik was able to maneuver out of the coffin-bed and stand before her. The one that broke the silence between them was Christine, who stood before him confidently, something the ill man noticed._

"_Erik, you came back to me!"_

_His voice was somewhat quiet due to his throat's raw feeling as he responded with his usual poetic answers._

_"Of course, my dear, I will always come back to you. Did you think your Erik would die without seeing you one last time?"_

_Her brow furrowed with confusion and annoyance, "That is not funny, Erik. You cannot die! You promised me that you would never leave me!"_

_He merely chuckled darkly. "My dear, I never promised I always would _physically_ be by your side. Just because I am deceased, that does not mean that I am not with you. I was your angel at one time, and I will always with you whether I am alive or dead." _

_The last part of that statement was uttered almost to the point of inaudibility. Her heart shattered at how broken he sounded. The recognition of how much her betrayal tore him apart flooded back to her tenfold._

"_Erik, I know I have hurt you, but I certainly do not want you to die."_

_At this, the usually masked man wanted to spitefully remark about her conspiracy with her lover to put him six feet in the ground with a bullet wound in his forehead, but he bit his tongue. It would be foolish to relinquish his upper-hand in the whole charade. Yet, somewhere deep within his heart, he wanted to believe her._

_Turning his back to her, he staggered to the night stand and splayed his hand on its cool wooden surface. Sighing raggedly from phlegm congestion, he closed his eyes, reigning in his anger. He needed to remain calm lest he collapse._

"_I wish I could believe you when you say that, Christine. Yet, I find more and more that you never seem to tell me the truth. You have not been honest with me. If the Opera Ghost was in control, he would not let you go; however Erik is here and his love for you is conquering his emotions."_

_Christine stepped forward in an attempt to try and reach him, but he shook his head. "Nay, Christine. Step no more. I am too sick to fight."_

_Pressing a hand to his face, he felt panic surge through his body when he realized he was unmasked, but he was far too weak to react. Thoughts of her betrayal, his plan of revenge, his music as well as other arts, and his pitiful existence among other things had driven him to the brinks of madness. Although these sentiments continually plagued him like an upcoming storm that billows from the ocean currents, he was too feeble to care or ponder them. He only wished to sleep and never wake up again._

_He hissed when a sharp pain hit his chest, and he pushed his way past Christine to open his door. The Persian, who had sat down on the couch, stood up immediately upon seeing his friend in distress._

_Despite Erik's grumbling, Nadir helped him to lie down on the couch near the blazing fire in the fireplace. Once the ailing man was situated, the foreigner placed some warm blankets over the thin and frail man. _

_Pressing his hand on the discolored flesh of the phantom's forehead, Nadir frowned as he felt fever. Gathering some herbs and medicine, he mixed it all in a soothing tea from his homeland that aided in the destruction of congestion within the lungs. Sighing gratefully, he was happy that Erik did not protest for once and drank the liquid slowly. Once the tea was gone, the formerly masked man fell into a rare peaceful slumber. Nadir saw this as a good sign but remained tight-lipped in Christine's presence. _

"_Mademoiselle Daae, it appears that Erik is faring far better than before. I suggest you keep doing what you were doing before. However, if he ever finds out what you and…your lover…are planning, I guarantee he will die but not before he ensures violent chaos will erupt. Beware, Christine. Erik will __**never**__be played for a fool, not even for you, the woman he loves."_

_With that said, she watched him leave the room and retreat to the library where he went to work on researching alternative medicines that could help his former companion recover faster. When she was sure that the dark-skinned man was out of earshot, she kneeled next to Erik's sleeping form. _

_His unmasked face was peaceful, and she watched his even slow breaths, the only sound in the room. When he was at peace, she loved him the most. He was such a major aspect to her life, and if he did die, she was sure that she would, too. Losing her father was detrimental, but if she lost either Erik or Raoul, it would be fatal to her health. No words or intellectual musings could describe the importance of having these two people in her life. _

_She stroked his soft hair while humming various Swedish lullabies. Once she was sure he was asleep, she began to talk to him in a soft voice like a mother soothing her child._

"_Oh Erik, I know how angry you are with me and you have every right to be. I should have confided in you but I was afraid. You often tell me that I am far too good and pure to be with a monster like you. Oh, maestro, that is far from true. Yes, you frighten me when you get angry, but when you are kind and gentle, I see the man that you truly are. Your face shocked me; yes, but I am not afraid of it anymore. I do love you in my way, Erik. Only time will tell how I can gather the courage to actually speak the words to you, but you must get better for me before I can do so."_

_Never straying from his side, she hummed and read to him. She spoke to him while he slept, having the gumption that she lacked when he was conscious. Yet, she yearned to see his gold eyes that always saw through her straight to her soul. Eventually after a few hours passed, she knew she had to return back to the world of light, and to her dismay, her music mentor awoke. What she did not know was while he did not know what she said or did whilst he slept; he very much remembered her presence._

---Present Day Belier Sanitarium---

Serene Willows had read entry after entry of Erik's journal, and while she felt guilty for violating his privacy, she now was intriguingly besotted with this love story. As a woman and psychologist, she found that young Christine Daae did indeed love the masked man as she stated in her own way. Even though at first the young girl was attracted to the "angel" he pretended to be, Christine eventually developed complex feelings after he revealed himself as a man.

Yet, she found herself torn between a passionate love with a murderer and a comfortable love with a childhood friend who had never disappointed her. Raoul de Chagny definitely was smitten with this beautiful opera star; he left his fortune in order to pursue her. That is until Philippe's body was found floating face down in the lake, something Erik was indeed responsible, she speculated. Because of that tragedy, young Raoul stepped into his brother's role as Vicomte effortlessly. There was a nagging feeling in the back of the doctor's head that some puzzle piece was being obscured beneath the tragedies and conflicts that enveloped this love tale. What if Christine did not just love Erik? What if she fell _in_ love with him? How could she choose between the two men who hated each other so extensively? What if she ran away from both of them?

It was perhaps far-fetched at best, but it was a theory that needed to be proven either right or wrong. Closing the journal, she tucked it beneath the pile of books on her temporary desk. Another thought crossed her mind: Spencer. She closed her eyes as an overwhelming ache settled within her chest. Pressing a delicate hand over her pounding heart, she whispered in the empty room, vainly hoping he would hear her say those precious words.

"I love you, Spencer. Come to me, my love. I need you and your strength more than ever. You always know what I should do."

Yet, the room remained as reticent as she had entered, the only reply to her longing. Thus, she forced back her tears of heartache and returned to her case on the masked man, praying she could get through this without yearning for her soul's mate.

---Down the hall…Erik's cell---

Pushing the supplies into the two vacant holes in the floor, he made sure that they were securely hidden beneath the cot. The other two holes, he knew Serene had found, so he managed to seal the tiles back in place.

The orderlies shoved a laudanum-laced tray of food on the floor of his cell while Erik, wrapped in the straitjacket bemused by thoughts of Christine ignored their infiltration. He had grown accustomed to having his privacy violated over the years spent at the asylum, but something of interest drew him to the door.

The attendants were talking about Dr. Willows. Getting on his knees, he pressed his ear to the crack between the door and the wall and his sensitive ears picked up on the conversation between the two women.

The elder woman was listening to the young brunette as she declared, "Did you know that the new doctor has a husband who just opened that theater in America? This theater, he helped to create, is one of the largest in the world! Amazing!"

"What's the bloke's name?"

"I think she said his name was Spencer Willows, or at least that's what I have been told. What does that expression mean; do you know him?"

"Well…"

The two women silenced themselves as a group of privileged patients were escorted to the lunchroom, and continued once they were alone again.

"You were saying?"

"Well, I 'as cleanin' the doctor's room and t'ere 'as a letter on the floor t'at was written by 'er 'usband. He begged 'er to listen to 'im about t'at masked monster. He wanted her to stop commun'cating wit that Erik fellow. He said for her to wait 'til t'at the Vicomte de Chagny and himself arrive here…"

"You're saying that her husband is with Monsieur Raoul de Chagny and they are coming here?!"

The old woman nodded and assented to the question. Her youthful companion gasped while Erik's body tensed at the mention of the blasted boy's name. So, they were coming? Well, he would have to escape tomorrow if he ever wanted to be free again. He listened more as the two women blathered on ignorantly unaware what danger lurked behind the door.

"Is there something else?"

The gray-haired woman nodded, revealing her yellowed and decaying teeth to the younger attendant. Erik pressed his ear closer; instincts within him knew that this would be important to hear.

"T'at Persian t'at always comes here was talkin' to Dr. Belier 'bout the evidence he found when he looked up Serene's 'usband. Well, it appears t'at Spencer and t'at young opera singer wen' to the same institute for music."

"What a small world indeed! Did he know her personally?"

"He traveled fro' Virginia to France when he was not yet twenty to pay off debts. He was t'e pianist and protégé to Monsiuer Reyer durin' the year o' the fire t'at burned down par' of the theater. T'at foreign man never did say if t'at Spencer knew Christine or not."

"Do you think he knew Christine personally? Does Dr. Willows know about this?"

"Can't hardly say for t'at foreigner heard me and I 'ad to leave. Naw, the doctor and Persian both said she didn't kno' an' both men agreed she should ne'er know 'bout it. Supposedly befo' they married, t'e doctor and her husban' separated for a year so he coul' get money to pay off loans. She only knows he worked as a pianist in France where he coul' get more money t'an in t'e barely civilized Americas."

Erik's breath was caught in his throat, a sure rarity that he was surprised for once. Usually nothing stunned him, but the fact that her husband had worked in _his_ theater shocked him to his core. Racking his brain, he tried to mentally picture who it could possibly have been. Suddenly, he remembered the young boy who definitely had a beautiful gift for playing the piano.

He was a quiet and handsome man, one that Erik greatly approved, with a calm and genteel disposition that could soothe the most savage of beasts. The masked man remembered the young man remained obscure and hidden amongst the throngs of people that worked in the theater, only showing up for work and leaving when the theater closed. Kind-hearted, he always helped the stagehands by lifting scenery drops and the poor women by giving them money for food to feed themselves and their children.

The masked man was aware that the younger man had not the extensive amount of money to do help the poorer women, but the man's benevolent actions towards the suffering did make him stand out in the Phantom's mind. While Erik was sure that he did not know Christine, he was sure that he knew Madame Giry. When the ignorant managers fired Madame Giry, he was furiously ready to throttle them but left to attend to his friend. However, that fellow had reached her first. He gave her the money he could not afford to give away to her, so that she and little Meg would not be thrown out in winter. The masked man did get her hired back, but it was because of Spencer Willows' compassion that she did not have to suffer from the cold where she could have died. She had just recovered from pneumonia three months prior.

For such a brief moment, he felt guilty for hurting the man that had aided Madame Giry by using his wife, whom Erik had not a doubt that he loved dearly. However, his selfish desire to escape outweighed his guilt from hurting an innocent man. He wished he could stay and see the man after all these years, but time could not wait. As much as he desired to see that abnormal man by society's standards, he had to think of his life. Once he escaped, he knew that if caught, he would be hanged and he could not take such a risk.

Returning back to the cot, he lay back down on the uncomfortable cot and waited for the daily session with the young and attractive Serene. He was infuriated that she had his journal and most likely read it, and he intended to get it back…or at least make her pay for stealing it and violating his privacy. Women's damn curiosity had always been a major pet peeve of his, and this was no exception…

---Nadir's Apartment---

"Darius, you have made sure my luggage has been packed on the stagecoach haven't you?"

"Yes, sir, I packed it nearly a quarter of an hour ago. You are ready to go, sir."

"Thank you, my boy; I appreciate such help when my bones have become old. I will return, Allah willing, with the Vicomte and Mr. Willows. We should be back no more than one week, seeing as to we will ride nonstop. I want you to keep an eye out for young Serene and make sure Erik does not do anything. I mean it. I do not want him to breathe wrong without your notice, do you understand?"

"Consider it all heard and done, master. Now you must go if you wish to get out of the city with some daylight."

"I shall, Darius. When I arrive at Lisbon, Portugal, I shall send word back to you of my safe arrival. You should be able to take care of things."

"Yes, sir, I shall. Will you stop by Madame Giry's home in Madrid?"

"We may stop for a moment but it depends on the ship's course on the Tagus River. If it does not stop, then we do not either. Now I must go. Farewell, Darius."

"Farewell, master."

Darius waved from the threshold as he watched his master enter the coach and ride away. He let out his breath that he had been holding and rushed to his master's desk where he retrieved some paper and pen.

_Madame Giry:_

_It is important for you to know that Master Nadir is heading to Portugal and he may stop by your home. I am still here in Paris, working on trying to discover what that masked man is planning. When I find out, I will let you know immediately. Master plans on stopping by with the Vicomte and doctor's husband once the ship stops on the Tagus River. You must take care of the rest. I shall keep in touch._

_Sincerely,_

_Darius Kaman Hummed_

Putting the letter in the envelope, he gave took it to the postal office for delivery as soon as possible. When he returned to the apartment, he went to Nadir's closet. Opening the pine door, his arms reached upward and pulled out a small mahogany wooden box about six by eight inches. Opening the lid, he ran his brown fingers over the cool metal surface of a small pistol. Putting some bullets into the gun, he pocketed it and placed the box back in its original place.

His only thought, "I will do whatever it takes to protect my boss."

---Session at the Asylum between Serene and Erik---

Dr. Willows and Erik were similarly seated across from each other as they had been the day prior. His thinly long legs were stretched languidly before him yet held that familiar strength. His gold eyes were flickering as his thoughts persistently changed as he reflected some things.

She had not said one word, barely even casting a glance in his direction, which made him uneasy. What was going on? He glared at her when she pulled out his journal and set it on the desk silently.

Sighing heavily, she spoke softly, "I wanted to return this to you. I know you must be furious that I took…"

"You mean to say stole it."

"Yes, I will keep it until it is safe to return it to you. Erik, can we continue the discussion that we had yesterday on the topic of love?"

His mask was itching, and he wished he could scratch his face, but the straitjacket was a hindrance. On top of this agitation, he had no desire to discuss Christine again; it caused too much heartache.

"I apologize for leaving so suddenly yesterday. I just…was overwhelmed…"

Erik smirked, and quietly responded with insight, "You miss your husband." It was a statement not a question.

Her head snapped up with eyes wide with wonder. He merely chuckled darkly before speaking again, "It does not take a genius to see that you miss him."

Her tone was bitter and oddly indifferent to him, and this was not a good thing, "I refuse to talk to you about my husband. He is a good man, and I love him…so much…"

As much as he wanted to retch at the magnitude of love she gave off for Spencer Willows, Erik was touched by her devotion to protect him. If only Christine had that devotion and love. He copied her and sighed heavily as memories of Christine flooded back. His journal lay on the desk and his eyes went from it to the doctor's beautiful face. He wondered what she thought of his writing and if she knew that her husband had worked in the Paris Opera House. Of course, he would not ask. She had mentioned nothing of it, so he assumed she knew nothing about it.

Relatively, he was exhausted and aching from the stress of the impending escape plan unfolding tomorrow.

"You wanted to continue our discussion about love? Where do you wish to start today?"

Her green eyes looked at him in pondering, yet he saw she was not focused on him today. Suddenly, she came back to reality from her thoughts and answered his question in a tone that reflected interest.

"Yes, you said you were a prisoner to your heart. However, I am more inclined to believe that you are a slave of your love to Christine."

"Can I not be both?"

"Why yes…"

He interrupted, "You say you are a Christian. How is your love different between God and your husband?"

"I would say that I love my husband with all of my heart, soul, and being; yet, I love God more. It is important to have that loving relationship with God because you never feel alone."

"God never was there for me. In my lifetime, I have suffered great agonies, much of which you have read, and I cried out for mercy and received nothing except more agony. Tell me how I can love a God that abandoned me."

"I could tell you that God has a reason. He had a plan for you and all that you suffered. Yet, I cannot tell you how to love God, but he does love you, Erik. If he did not love you, then explain to me how you were fortuitous enough to receive loyal companions like Nadir Khan and Madame Giry. They know of all of your atrocities and remained dedicated to you. Christine, although brought you pain, she also brought you happiness. God does mysterious and unexplainable things, but I believe you are throwing blame at the wrong person. The majority of your sufferings have been at the expense of mankind not God."

"God made mankind."

"He also has rebuked mankind for sinning and wrongdoing. You could be easily compared to Job. Job suffered great loss yet remained steadfast in the Lord, but you, Erik, have turned from God in your suffering. You do not feel like you belong to mankind and therefore, you feel not apart of mankind's God. Job said in Job 34:5 'I am innocent but God denies me justice.' You thirst for justice despite the injustices you have committed."

"The injustices that I have committed were because they first were perpetrated upon me."

"Yes, you were just a child when you first suffered rejection. Erik, you are not meant for this world. Can you not see that? Your music, genius, and heart all show me this. Nadir once said of you that you had a heart that could hold an empire of the world, yet you had to content yourself with a cellar. You were innocent, and let me tell you that God will avenge you."

"Why would he care about me? I have executed such egregious sins that He would certainly smite me."

"You have remorse and that is what matters. He has the ability and desire to forgive you. You just have to come to him first. He would avenge you; I must say that God's wrath is far greater and more powerful than the wrath of the Phantom or Opera Ghost."

He chuckled at the comparison. She was clever and very intellectual, he would give her that. He knew she would put up one hell of a fight tomorrow. Because of this, he decided to humor her and continue to be vocal.

"If God loved me then why do I have this face?"

"If I was God, I would give you that answer. Alas, I am merely His child speculating upon His will. Look at it from a different perspective, if you did not have that face, you never would have met Christine, Nadir, and Madame Giry."

"My life would have been better if I had a normal face. I could have had riches, fame, power, a wife who loved me."

"Erik, even if you had a good looking face, you are not guaranteed a great life like Raoul or Philippe. So many die unhappy and unsatisfied with the success they accrued in life. Look how Philippe's life demised…"

Erik's eyes darkened with a warning to her, and she wisely backed off the topic of the Chagnys. She made a good point despite the reference to his hated enemy.

"Not all grass is greener on the other side as you have heard. Yet, if you had a great face, you would not have met Madame Giry. Where would she be without you in her life? She most certainly would have died giving birth to Meg and little Meg would have been an orphan like you."

He nodded in agreement, "I suppose that is a valid point. While most people do not believe me, I do love her. She has been one loyal friend."

"I know you are capable of love, Erik. I see you as a man who deserves everything that life can offer. You do not belong here."

Her words threw him off and he waited for her to explain but no such luck. She did not elaborate further. Changing the topic, she tried to avert from the subject of love.

"I wish I could hear you sing. I wish ever more that I could hear you play. I was taught to play piano, and I love music so much. From all the people I have talked with, they all say there is no greater musician than you."

"Perhaps one day you shall get your wish."

She smiled softly, but her sorrow and despair still radiated from her form much to his displeasure. He was so tired of seeing innocent people suffering unfairly, but he knew that he had to follow through with his plan to escape. There could be no compromise. She would have to endure more misery. After all, he would take her away from her husband, a good man whose only sin was that he loved her. She may have compassion for him now but that would be short-lived.

In two minutes, Erik was escorted back to his cell and Serene made it back to her temporary apartment with his journal. Setting it on the table, she collapsed on her bed in tears. Normally, she did not cry but the ache in her heart was far too great. Aching for Spencer, she longed to lie next to him in his warm and loving arms. He would let her know how much he loved her and how much he was grateful she was his.

It was hard to be separated from the man that God had united with her. He was her only family in this world and without him, she felt all alone. There was a knock at her door, and she opened it to reveal Meg Giry and her husband Theo, a slightly short dark-haired man with soft brown eyes and regal appearance.

As much as she wanted to be alone at the moment, she allowed them entrance into the house. After they all were seated, each with a cup of warm tea, she asked what brought their visitation.

Meg pulled out a letter and handed it to Serene's shaking hands. Reading the letter, she had to swallow over the lump that ached in her throat. Spencer was in a horrible state and it was all her fault.

"Promise me, Serene, that you will not meet with Erik again. Please do not see him again, for the sake of your husband's health!"

Serene nodded immediately. "Of course, I would not want him to suffer. Oh, what have I done?"

Meg and Theo reassured her that she was not the reason her husband was stressing out; it was the masked man. They had to leave in order to make it to the church, for Theo was an active member at the church.

Once they left, Serene undressed and got into her nightgown. Pulling back the covers of the bed, she slipped into it and fell asleep as the tears dried on her cheek.

Meanwhile, Erik stared out of his window at the dreary landscape and feeling the urge to sing, he opened his mouth to sing. His heart ached for Christine and he wanted to see her lovely face, if for only one last time.

_**Tell me his name**_

_**I want to know**_

_**The way he looks**_

_**And where you go**_

_**I need to see his face**_

_**I need to understand**_

_**Why you and I came to an end**_

_**Tell me again**_

_**I want to hear**_

_**Who broke my faith in all these years**_

_**Who lays with you at night**_

_**While I'm here all alone**_

_**Remembering when I was your own**_

_**I let you go**_

_**I let you fly**_

_**Why do I keep on asking why**_

_**I let you go**_

_**Now that I found**_

_**A way to keep somehow**_

_**More than a broken vow**_

_**Tell me the words I never said**_

_**Show me the tears you never shed**_

_**Give me the touch**_

_**That one you promised to be mine**_

_**Or has it vanished for all time**_

_**I close my eyes**_

_**And dream of you and I**_

_**And then I realize**_

_**There's more to love than only bitterness and lies**_

_**I close my eyes**_

_**I'd give away my soul**_

_**To hold you once again**_

_**And never let this promise end**_

_**I let you go**_

_**I let you fly**_

_**Now that I know I'm asking why**_

_**I let you go**_

_**Now that I found**_

_**A way to keep somehow**_

_**More than a broken vow**_

**(Author's Note: Josh Groban's "Broken Vow")**

Lying on the cot, Erik fell asleep while tears dried on his cheek underneath the mask. Dreaming of Christine on stage singing for him, her Angel of Music, there was that rare smile on the masked man's face.

**Author's Note: This took less time to update. Hopefully all of my hard work is appreciated. Thanks for the reviews. I value your opinions and continued dedication to this story. Next chapter will have Erik escaping, Serene fighting, Spencer suffering, Raoul comforting, and Christine entering the story. Lots of things happening at once! Bear with me; it is going to be a bumpy ride! I love Josh Groban! That man has a beautiful voice!**

© Copyright 2007


	10. Chapter 10 Erik Escapes

_Disclaimer: I absolutely do NOT own, nor do I gain any monetary subsidies, for this fan fiction story. The characters, setting, names belong to the author that created them (Leroux, Kay), BUT the plot is all mine!_

**Author's Note: Hello all! This chapter was particularly exciting for me to write! This is it! Erik escapes and Christine comes into the story! I am SO thrilled to hear from you all! Thanks for the reviews; they brighten my day. I am just glad you all are reading. Here we come to the incline of the roller coaster! Get ready for a very bumpy ride…**

**IMPORTANT: I apologize for the LONG wait for this chapter…My computer hard drive malfunctioned and I nearly lost all of my files, including this story. Luckily, the techs were able to retrieve the files; however, I just got it back a couple of days ago. So again, I ask for your forgiveness…Hopefully this chapter made the wait worth it.**

_**Chapter Ten-Erik's Escape**_

Serene sat silently on the train, looking out at the bright scenery that passed by wondering how bleak her situation had become. A day ago she had been bright and happy, waiting for Spencer's arrival and now…she was a prisoner who was stuck beneath the masked man's upper-hand. How he had turned the tables!

She managed a glance in his direction across from her to find that he sat rigidly still, his long legs languidly stretched in front of him while his golden eyes were not seen in the black holes. In his waistline, the pistol's gleam shone as light reflected from it, making her well aware she would die if she tried to escape or attempted to reach out for help. His eyes were closed as if he was asleep, but she knew better; he was very perceptive to his surroundings and would wake at the slightest movements.

Sadly, she leaned her head back and stared idly out of the window. The masked man's gold eyes opened and peered at her submissive form across from him. She had not spoken since boarding the train, and the silence of the room was occasionally interrupted from the various sounds of the train. Yet, he knew that the defiant fire burned within her and it was only a matter of time before it engulfed her. She would continue to fight back until he reduced her to nothing. His gloved hands concealed his pale spidery fingers where others' blood could still be seen.

His melodiously deep voice brought her out of her reverie and she gave him the look of pure hatred. Holding out his hand, he motioned for her to give him what she was sitting on. Erik's face may have been deformed, but his eyes were not imperfect; they always see what most do not catch. The young doctor had grabbed some letter when he made his escape, but he could not retrieve it until now when he was in a safer place. He could not afford to be caught again, and he was curious, too about this letter.

With pure bitterness in her voice, she answered him by pulling the folded papers from beneath her and slapping them into his hand. To his surprise, he found the papers not to be a letter; rather, the papers were a part of a music composition. Looking at her, the black mask gleamed slightly as he inquired, "What is the story behind these?"

If she had been a snake, the venom from her tone would have killed him instantly; he was thankful she was just a _very_ angry woman instead.

"Since you kidnapped me, I had to leave my important papers behind…but I _refuse_ to leave this composition…As you know, my husband is a pianist…You, however, did not acknowledge that you knew him."

His eyes slightly widened, but the rest of his masked face remained stoical. She was quite the spit-fire when double-crossed.

"I was going through my files that I had packed. Come to discover, Spencer had hidden a particular folder within some miscellaneous papers. When I opened the folder, there was a letter and that musical composition. The letter he wrote detailed the account of his time at the Paris Opera Populaire and his time with the Opera Ghost. He told me everything in that letter. Feel free to read it."

The last part of her sentence was immersed in sarcastic resentment that he did not fail to notice. Crossing her arms across her chest in defiance, she looked out the window, refusing to acknowledge any part of him.

Shaking his head, Erik, too, chose to ignore her and pulled the letter from beneath the music to read what Spencer had to say about his time at Paris. Later on, Erik would consider it a fatalistic coincidence that out of all the papers she could have took, she took the one that was most important.

_My Life and Lover:_

_I figured it was time that you knew the truth and why I kept it hidden from you so long. Perhaps you will understand and not be outraged, although you have every right to be. I must confess…It is imperative that I do, for I fear that I may lose both my sanity and you should I not tell you. Contrary to what you may believe, I am _fully_ aware of this man named Erik Desslar. I also know Raoul de Chagny and Christine Daae. I am so sorry that you had to discover the truth like this, in a letter. I suppose I should have told you from the beginning, but I feared your reaction would have been to leave me…In an ironic way, I suppose my fears were futile. On any note, I must explain how I came to work at the Paris Opera House._

_When your father sent the loan sharks after me, you and I had to part so soon after being in each others' arms. Because of my love for you, I had to keep you safe and make enough money to honor my promise to marry you as well as pay off my debts in order to lead a natural life…a life that you deserved. You knew I went to France to be an accompanist to an orchestra since there were more opportunities in civilized nations rather than the barely civilized Americas. This, you knew; however, you did not know that I was the orchestral accompanist in the Paris Populaire at the time when it was said to be haunted by the infamous 'Opera Ghost.' Never did I believe in fairy-tales, and trust me when I say; the entire story was _not_ a fable. I met with a Detective who confirmed my suspicion that your patient, Erik Desslar, and the Opera Ghost of whom I was familiar were one in the same. I am sure you know the full details of all the crimes and woes the Phantom created while there because of his obsession with young singer Christine Daae. _

_I tried to deter you from leaving, even comparing to the monster that nearly took your life, but I fear that I left out my true opinion of the man…not the masked murderer of which everyone is fully aware but a living, breathing man with a heart. I need to tell you what I saw, my side of the story of this poor man. You know my mannerisms as a very quiet man, never wanting to be in the spotlight. I was determined to come back to you, a promise I always made and kept. When it was time for work, I showed up and when the house closed, I left. Yet, I somehow got involved. I am almost certain that you and Megan Giry are now good friends; she was always a light in the place before Erik's madness ensued. With my little money, I was able to stop her widow mother and the young ballerina from being thrown out into the harsh snowy filthy streets in the dead of winter. Later I discovered by Christine that Erik dropped the chandelier upon the woman the managers had hired in Madame Giry's stead as revenge. I had no idea that he and Madame Giry knew each other…She told me she had saved him from the same wintry streets years prior and they had become good friends._

_Because of the woman's death in a horrific manner, the managers hired Antoinette back without stipulation. This was the first time I had seen the violence at Erik's hand, but my love, you must understand his mindset at the time. I have no degree or specialty in the field of the mind; that is your area, but I believe I know how he must have felt. Despite the horrific way of dealing with the issue, I _did_ see how much he cared about Madame and her daughter. Although I did not agree with his methods, I saw that this 'ghost' was a man, a suffering man at that. Of course he would tell you how the ballet corps always gossiped about him, blaming him anywhere from a stolen brush to the deprecation of sets. Mostly I ignored such gibberish until they discussed his deformity, 'Death's Head,' as they called it. I was rather skeptical of the whole description until Christine unmasked him in front of nearly all of Paris that fateful night she disappeared forever. True, he was hideous and repulsive but he was still a man in my eyes, a man who had a heart filled with unrequited love. I remained unscathed in the entire fiasco, but my heart was not. As a musician, I empathized greatly with this enigma of a man, whose only mistake was falling in love with the unattainable woman. At that time, I feared I had suffered from the same dilemma, fearing I would never be able to return to you. _

_You may wonder why I feared you trying to figure out what happened to Christine by treating him. Well, I will say that it was not the fear of the monster, the enigmatic man who could kill with the flick of the wrist; it was the fear of how _**human**_ Erik is. I was afraid that if pushed too far, you could break him and he could hurt you in his rage. Perhaps one incident could convince you of his humanity. When the body of the stagehand, Joseph, fell from one of the backdrops, everything became immediate and utter chaos. The orchestra had fled, leaving me in a stupefied shock. I managed to see Christine and Raoul escape the commotion through the door that led to the roof. I knew that it was important to stop more bloodshed, so I pursued the two lovebirds to the top of the building, a foolish move on my part. Christine told Raoul the entire story about Erik, his deformity, his madness, her fear of him, her desperation to flee from him upon that cold starry night. Yet, my attention was not on the two lovers; it was on the statue of Apollo's Lyre. _

_ The stars littered the sky with white light, but while I could not see Erik, I knew he was very much present because there were two gold lights that flickered on top of the statue directly towards the woman. He did not seem to notice my presence or at least he did not acknowledge it. Christine and Raoul had planned to escape the premier of __**Don**__**Juan**__ once Erik was put into police custody. Once she was calm and assured all was well, the two left. I remained hidden beside the momentous marble figure and watched the masked man descend. Hot fear rose within me, but my heart refused to let my body flee. I needed to know if this man truly was human. I expected him to curse, to rant, and to scream; he did none of those. Instead, a soul-piercing cry of agony perforated the night sky and pricked the hearts of the angels. He wept openly for quite a long time, barely able to breathe, so smothering was his sorrow. This man may have been a murderer and a criminal, but he was dying. Not from illness, no, he was dying from a broken heart. It was then I knew how tragic this love story was…and…how doomed his heart would be. _

_Because of his suffering, I was filled with inspiration to compose a song. For the entire time I was separated from you, my love, I could not write, so heartsick. If you are at a last resort with him, give him this letter and this song I composed. He will understand and perhaps he will have compassion for you._

_This is for you Erik…_

Erik's eyes and throat ached for tears to be released, but he could not let them go. His heart hurt from the guilt that had begun to form, but his mind steeled him from forgoing his plan. Instead, he turned to the man's song. First, the masked man hummed the melody then he memorized the words. He felt her eyes on him now, but he did not care. He needed to lose himself in the music, this song…How beautiful it was…How magnificent it was. This man, Spencer…well, Erik knew he had been right about this good man. This man was very talented. Suddenly, Serene's hand reached out and touched his gloved one. Their eyes met, both teary with the ache for the ones they loved, but soon her eyes grew cold and she turned away. His voice became louder as he sang the song Spencer had written, knowing in time, he would destroy the young man's heart.

Spencer's song lay on Erik's lap as the music took over that small train compartment of a room. Closing his gold eyes, the former Phantom felt the familiar warmth of music flood his body as he threw his soul into the song.

_**Ashes and Wine**_

**Don't know what to do anymore**

**I've lost the only love worth fighting for**

**I'll drown in my tear storming sea,**

**That would show you…that would make you hurt like me**

**All the same**

**I don't want mudslinging games**

**It's such a shame**

**To let you walk away**

**Is there a chance?**

**A fragment of light at the end of the tunnel?**

**A reason to fight?**

**Is there a chance you may change your mind?**

**Or are we ashes and wine?**

**Don't know if our fate's already sealed**

**This day's spinning surface on a wheel**

**I'm ill with the thought of your kiss**

**Coffee laced intoxicating on her lips**

**Shut it out**

**I've got no claim on you now**

**Not allowed to wear your freedom down**

**Is there a chance?**

**A fragment of light at the end of the tunnel?**

**A reason to fight?**

**Is there a chance you may change your mind?**

**Or are we ashes and wine?**

**I'll tear myself away**

**That is what you need**

**There is nothing left to say**

**But**

**Is there a chance?**

**A fragment of light at the end of the tunnel?**

**A reason to fight?**

**Is there a chance you may change your mind?**

**Or are we ashes and wine?**

**The day's still ashes and wine**

**Or are we ashes?**

**(See A/N about this song)**

Soon the cabin became silent as the two became immersed in the thoughts of love lost. Serene had nearly been lulled to oblivion by his beautiful voice. This man had a magnificent voice, one that could not be described in words. He truly was talented…just like Spencer…At this, a sob escaped her throat and she buried her head in her arms, trying to cover her embarrassment and pain. Erik watched her, feeling numb. Perhaps he was selfish but her tears did not sway him. Her pain was real, but what did she _truly_ know about suffering? What did she _really_ know of loss? _HE_ knew what agony was, what unbearable suffering was. He sat back and began to think of other things.

Because his escape plan had to be hurried, he had to improvise many things, which resulted in loss of life. He never enjoyed murder after the act. The thrill that came with killing used to be like a drug; he could never be satiated until the next time. Yet, over the years, his thirst for blood waned to such a point; he had no desire to take another's life. Perhaps it was the daroga or Madame Giry's influence, but he contributed it to Christine's presence in his life. She had brought out the best in him; the good he did not even know existed within his self.

Yet, the demons that had plagued him his entire life came back with a fiery vengeance as he remembered how he and the doctor had ended up on the train…

---The day prior…---

Erik had been awake, preparing for the escape. The day was bleak and rainy, which was perfect for him because it ensured camouflage. He had retrieved a bag from the supply closet and put all his supplies within it. He would commence the escape once lunchtime came around, for most of the attendants were outside on the covered patio and the patients were asleep from laudanum. The doctors would be out for lunch, but because of the gossiping women in the sanitarium, he knew that Dr. Willows ate her lunch in her office as she poured over files and her letters.

It was nearing eleven thirty in the morning and the attendants were taking an early lunch. Erik slipped out of the straitjacket and picked up the hidden bobby pin that he had taken from one of the orderly's hair to pick the lock on the door. Cautiously, he opened it and peered out in the halls. No one was there. The asylum was silent as the laudanum fed patients slept off their madness, but the masked man was not to be deterred. His entire body was tense, anticipating discovery or detection from one of the employees. Throwing his bag over one shoulder, he exited the room.

While outside the asylum, the sun usually shone brightly as the light touched all of the earth; yet within the asylum, the sunlight was lucky if a ray made it past a window. The sanitarium was dark and dank, only lit in certain areas so the shadows were prominent, which was perfectly fine to the masked man.

Darting from one shadow to the next, he was able to deflect any unwanted attention until he arrived to the medicine supply closet. He had retrieved _his_ supplies, but he needed to complete his plan by getting some substances that would ensure his escape. Entering the small room, his eyes scanned the shelves as he picked up some highly flammable materials and liquids.

Once he picked up what he needed, he quietly slipped out of the room with his arms filled with dangerous substances. He ventured down the hallway as deftly as he had come but instead, he traveled away from his room to the doctor's room while creating five makeshift bombs. Passing a window, he saw the attendants smoking and conversing outside on the patio but he kept walking.

In the main hallway that led to the entrance, he placed one right outside the door and placed another in the middle of the corridor. Smiling slightly, he situated another explosive device three doors from the room of Doctor Willows. The black mask gleamed with malevolent glee then his smile faltered when he came upon Doctor Belier's office.

Immediately, the demons within him surged with hatred. This was the time for revenge. This was the time for retribution. He would be quick. He would be discreet. In his time at the asylum, he had quickly learned that the doctor worked diligently from noon to one without disturbance.

This would ensure discovery after it was too late to do anything. Placing the other two bombs outside his door, he silently entered the office. The doctor's office was littered with papers and files of patients. The room itself was rather small, but managed to have a massive amount of books upon various subjects such as theology, psychology, criminal minds, and medicine scattered on shelves that were placed on all four walls. There was a large oak desk in the back of the room with a couch and two chairs on the right in front of the bay window. Upon the desk, there were papers spread out all over under the small lamp as the doctor's gray head was down, pouring over his work.

He had no clue that Death had entered. Blissfully unaware of how much danger he was in, Erik approached the doctor with malicious and deliberately slow steps. His motions were sloth-like and calculated as he grasped a knife from the coffee-table that had been used for the doctor's biscuit breakfast.

When Belier finally heard Erik's footfalls, he did not even look up before he said to who he thought was an employee, "I haven't the time to deal with nuisances. I am working right now. Come back in half an hour."

Smirking, the masked man's deep and deadly voice responded as he cocked his head, "But Doctor Belier, you haven't that time left in your life."

Instantly, the doctor's head snapped up but Erik was quicker in his movements. Before Belier had a chance to alert personnel, the masked man flicked his wrist across his captor's throat in one clean slice.

The doctor's whole face was contorted in fear and his eyes wide with fright stared at Erik's smiling face before the blood poured out of the opening in the jugular vein. Erik laughed in spite of himself as the doctor's arms flailed across his desk, flinging papers all over the room as he died. He made soft gurgling sounds that caused blood to sputter out in small trails, which resembled tear trails on a woman's flushed cheeks. It was funny to Erik as the doctor tried to scream, but it was too late for Belier soon bled out.

His captor's head slammed down on the desk and blood just dribbled out all over the oak furniture. Walking behind the desk, the masked man grabbed the gray hair and jerked the doctor's head up to retrieve his handkerchief. Wiping the blood off the knife, he threw it over the dead man's head with a derisive reply, "Here is your handkerchief, Doctor. I suggest wiping your face, for it appears you have something on it."

Whistling softly, the masked man vacated the room the same way he had entered. Pulling out a matchbox he had stolen from one of the security guards two weeks prior, he set to work. Humming Debussy's _Abaresque,_ he lit the two fuses of the bombs outside the doctor's room as well as the other three before he entered the lovely Serene's office. She was in a similar replica of an office like Dr. Belier's one. She was intently reading some papers and had not suspected or heard a thing. Good.

The masked man slipped his temporary satchel on the floor with a thud. Jumping in her seat, she looked up and gasped.

"Erik, how did y.."

She had not the chance to finish the sentence before the two bombs next to Dr. Belier's office detonated. There was a horrendous explosion that ripped through the corridor like the flood waters create an onslaught of detriment. Debris nearly ripped the door apart as the explosion passed by, causing a deep trembling beneath the room due to the fiery assault on the building's structure. Cries could be heard as the attendants and other employees rushed in to try and evacuate the patients.

A look of confused wonder crossed her features before realization hit her. She recognized he was finally escaping but did not try to stop it. Sighing heavily, she snatched some papers and stuffed them into her dress pockets. With his arms outstretched, he blocked her access from the door.

"Trust me when I say that you do not want to go that way."

As testimony to his words, a massive series of explosions ripped through the already fractured structure. There was a deep moaning as the building began to collapse. Grabbing a chair, he threw it out of the window, shattering the glass.

Turning towards her in a majestic pivot, he caught sight of her. She looked terrified as the walls began to sway; fear had her too petrified to move. His skeletal hands snatched her arms pulling her body to his as he jumped out of the window. The two fell with a hard thud on the ground but were unscathed unlike some who had been blown apart in the sanitarium. Sirens were coming closer and for a moment, the two stared at the asylum while one was horrified, the other was awestruck by his handiwork.

People were trapped still and their cries were echoing in the ears and hearts of those who had escaped. There was no way to save them. Closing her eyes, Serene tried to steady her nerves as well as calm down to keep from alerting attention to the two because she knew if he felt cornered, more people would die.

The cries melded together into a dreadfully sickening wail as the trapped patients and attendants saw their skin melting off their bodies as the fire slowly consumed the rooms. Suddenly, the cries stopped and there was only silence…The crackling of the fire that had now engulfed the entire asylum created a huge mass of black smoke that nearly suffocated the neighboring buildings.

"Get up."

Her green eyes snapped to his gold ones after his authoritative command. Erik almost smiled when he saw the defiance taking over them. In one moment, she had managed to get on her feet as he did the same. Shaking a finger at him, she berated him.

"You…How could you?!"

"Whatever do you mean? If given the chance, any patient would have tried to escape this hellhole."

"You killed innocent people!"

"Did I? I am just as innocent as those that just died."

For a brief moment, the anger left her face as she tried to process what he said. "What are you telling me? You are innocent in what?"

"Forget it, we are leaving now." His stoic reply did nothing to remove the curiosity from Serene's mind. So…perhaps not even _he_ knew what happened to Christine. Interesting. When she did not move fast enough, Erik snatched her arm forcefully and pulled her.

The air was cold and damp from the dreary day as the two dodged the police and others trying to put the fire out. Erik's eyes darted back and forth, observing and evaluating all as they continued to the heart of the city from the various alleyways. Dressed in a dirty long sleeve white shirt and dirty black trousers, the masked man was shivering from cold and adrenaline while Serene sweated from the fear and exertion. She had to work twice as hard to keep up with him; she knew that he would not hesitate to kill her if she lagged behind too long. He moved swiftly and deftly, never making a mistake in his footsteps or faltering once: truly graceful. Stopping right at the end of the alleyway, the city's marketplace was alive and buzzing with people and commerce. Peeking around in both directions, the masked man saw that there were police everywhere.

It did not take long for the Captain to realize that the patient responsible for the chaos had been the former Phantom. The whole city was put on alert as a 'crazed masked murderer' was on the loose. They did not know that Serene was with him, and for that, Erik knew he had the upper-hand. If worst came to worst, he could always use a hostage situation to get his way.

Despite the heavily dense street, he knew that he would easily be spotted with his mask. Sighing with anger, he looked all about him in search of an alternate route. Then he turned to the woman behind him. She had her arms crossed and a contemplative look on her face. Pointing to the rooftop her eyes met his, and she spoke, agitation plain in her tone.

"Why don't we take the rooftops instead? You can slip away unnoticed and the train station is at least two blocks south, which will leave you plenty of time to get there."

"Why should I trust you?"

"Why should you not? I have done nothing but try and help you."

"You still think I killed her."

"No, I think you are trying to go find her."

Before he could say anything else, Serene had hoisted herself on the ladder and was traveling up to the roof. Cocking his head to the side in disbelief, he was slightly impressed with this fire spirit of a woman. She was proving to be just as an unpredictable enigma as he was. Shrugging to himself, he dexterously followed behind her. When the two reached the rooftop, the entire city was in view.

Casting a lonely and sad look towards the black smoke-enveloped sanitarium, she turned towards him, waiting. Nodding, he motioned for her to follow him. Running at full speed, he hurled all of his weight as he jumped over the edge of the roof. Quietly, he momentarily flew through the air before he rolled to his feet on the next building's roof. He anticipated the doctor to flee but instead she reciprocated his movement and was standing next to him the next moment. They were two stories above the Parisian police, and Erik was thankful that he did not have to kill anyone else.

As if the two had hidden wings, they flew from rooftop to rooftop. At one point, the doctor lost her footing and nearly fell two stories down, but Erik caught her and pulled her to safety quite easily. He was strong and she knew that she had to play her cards right because he was capable of killing her.

Soon, the sound of train whistles could be heard and the buildings became few and far between. Sighing heavily, the masked man stopped. He was trembling and the two inhaled deeply to catch their breaths. Soon, though, Erik became paranoid and the two continued to the station. Cascading down a ladder, he waited for Serene to follow while he looked around him to make sure no one was in the dark alleyway.

When her feet touched the ground, his mask was centimeters away from hers. He whispered to her urgently and diligently like a commander to his men, "This is what you are going to do. You are going to the attendant at the station and purchase two tickets to Madrid. I will be in the shadows and do not think for one second of alerting attention or trying to get away because I will find you and make you regret it. You will enter the train, and I shall already be on. I will find you. Do you understand?"

"I haven't any money. You burned it, remember?"

Her sarcasm was ignored as the masked man grumbled with irritation. "Wait here."

She did not dare disobey his order and impatiently waited. Soon enough the masked man returned with funds. Looking at him, her eyes squinted, "Where did you get this?"

"An old gypsy trick...that is all that you need to know. Now go."

Serene tightly held the money in her hands as she walked quickly to the train stations. People, too busy to notice the frazzled woman, continued to walk past her without incident. The station was bustling, something she knew Erik was appreciative of. She went to the window where a bored looking man of twenty sat. She ordered the tickets and paid for them but hesitated for a moment. The boy looked at her and she spoke two words, words she would soon regret.

"Tell Spencer…"

The boy looked at her puzzled and fearfully, wondering if she was sane. "Who is Spencer, lady?"

Alarmed she glanced around her as Erik's voice penetrated her mind, "Leave now." Casting a pleading glance at the disturbed attendant, she sprinted away. Handing her ticket to the station manager, she entered the black locomotive and took her seat, her hands trembling incessantly. Soon enough, a rather large shadow of a figure took a seat next to her. For a brief moment, she peered at him, taking in the silhouette of a man. He turned to her.

He had obviously had sneaked on the train, stole a suit, and took a fedora to cover his masked face before sitting next to her. Handing her a petticoat that belonged to another woman she was sure, he then held his other hand out.

Placing the ticket in his hand, she scowled at him. The ticket manager happened to walk by and noticed the dark figure.

"Monsieur, I need to see your ticket."

Gruffly, Erik shoved the ticket at the man's face. The elder inquisitively looked at Serene and her scowled countenance then at the man's menacing demeanor. Chalking it all up to a lovers' quarrel, he nodded and made his way to the front of the train without reply.

When the train began to pull away from the station, did Serene and Erik move to the specified cabin. It was there that the two got to truly talk and Erik spoke first.

"You are very lucky to be alive after the stunt you pulled."

"You are very lucky to have made it on the train alive undetected."

"The Parisian police would assume I had no money to get on the train. They probably believe I hijacked a carriage."

"I wouldn't put it past you. And I would advise you not to underestimate Captain Agnew; he knows how _resourceful_ you can be. "

"Agnew is a pompous idiot. Why do you suddenly have all this hostility towards me now?"

"Well, I just realized that you murdered a mass of people, probably killed Dr. Belier first, are going to put my husband through hell, and I just thought that…"

She sighed heavily at the end, not finishing the sentence but he knew what she was trying to say. Finishing the sentence for her, "You thought that since you helped me, I would let you go. Sorry my dear, it appears that I need you longer than that."

Glaring at him, her green eyes lit up with a fiery resentment.

"Tell the truth, Erik. You plan on _never_ letting me go. Once I have served my purpose, you are going to kill me just like Belier."

Shrugging he closed his eyes and reclined in his seat. Spreading out his long legs he merely stated, "You are guaranteed death if you try and escape. You might as well get some sleep. This train ride shall be rather uneventful."

The two did not sleep well, both haunted by inner demons and tumultuous feelings. The next day, the masked man noticed that Serene was developing a growing resentment of him. He knew it was because her fear of never seeing her husband again was creating the increasing bitterness towards him, and he did not blame her for it.

What they did not know was that a man had followed them silently all the way to the train. Pulling out a pistol, he stared at it with increasing agitation. In the neighboring cabin to Desslar's, he waited and was determined to take care of Desslar for good when the moment was right. He just had to make sure that the doctor remained unscathed in the end.

---Somewhere far from Paris---

A gorgeous woman of blond hair and uninhibited blue sapphire eyes made her way to the small garden on a beautifully warmer day. She had been in the house for long enough and wanted to get some of her flowers to lighten up the rooms.

Her garden had grown from a patch of dirt to an exquisite array of colors that seemed to blend in perfectly with the delightful scenery that was her homeland. Humming a tune she thought familiar yet had never heard before, she tended to the plants by trimming stems and pruning the dead leaves off.

So immersed in her thoughts, she failed to notice one of the attendants to the property approach. Alonzo Kier was a stable boy who tended to the horses on the vast property and had been with the family since they moved in two years ago.

He was only at the tender age of fifteen where adults looked down on you and little kids looked up to you; he had led a tumultuous life until he found peace and comfort working for the kind family here at the small farm.

"Mademoiselle Murdock, your mother wants you within the house soon. Dinner is prepared and she wants you to get prepared for some guests that are to be arriving soon."

Nodding that she had heard him, he went away. Not heeding his request, she soon heard her mother call her from the front door of the home.

"Christine! Christine! Do come in. You cannot stay out here till dusk; we are expecting some arrivals!"

Sighing contentedly and slightly irked, she abandoned her work at the garden to go inside her home. Slightly surprised at the prospect of people arriving, she was not sure what to make of this situation. In all the time on the farm, her mother never had people come over.

Never acknowledging anything, Christine believed her mother somewhat overprotective over her although she did not know why. Whenever she talked to anyone outside the farm, her mother would scornfully rebuke her actions, claiming that they were hiding from her abusive father and they could not afford to be recognized.

Most days, Christine tended to the garden, sang songs, wrote in her diary, or read the latest books. Rarely did she ever leave the farm, and if she did, her mother was not far behind. Sometimes Christine wished that she could break free and go on her own. Secretly, she sometimes felt that there was more to the story that her mother was telling her. Perhaps she had another life somewhere, but she would then laugh and chalk it all up to an overactive imagination.

Retreating to the small but quaint farm house, she wondered about these arrivals and what they had to do with her mother. She could only speculate because her mother never told her anything, especially any questions that her daughter had.

----Harbor outside Madrid----

Spencer had seemed to recover a little more strength and courage with each day that brought him closer to the woman he loved. Raoul and he had grown to be closer than friends and more like brothers with the common feelings the two shared.

Word had been sent to the two that Nadir Khan would be waiting for them and true to his word, he was. The men, carrying their luggage, met the Persian at the end of the dock next to the carriage.

Raoul and the dark-skinned man nodded their greeting before Spencer politely introduced himself. Shaking hands, the Persian then helped load their luggage on the carriage before they all entered the coach to get away from the nosy port of bustling people and screeching seagulls.

Once inside, Raoul and Spencer both noticed a grave look on the elder man's face, and immediately dread filled their hearts. Something bad must have happened. Sighing heavily, the Persian handed a newspaper to the Vicomte reluctantly meeting Spencer's hazel eyes. The confusion in Chagny's eyes slowly was replaced by dismay as he read a certain article, then he turned to his friend and shared the bad news.

"I am _so_ sorry to inform you of this, Spencer, but it appears our masked man escaped."

White hot fear burned its way up to his throat in the form of nausea as panic filled his body. As long as Serene was fine, who cares if the masked man escaped?

The blue eyes of his friend were downcast as he continued in a low dread-filled voice, "I wish I did not have to be the one to tell you this but he somehow set fire to the asylum. At least thirty were burned alive; one of them was Dr. Belier."

Tears burned his eyes as angry denial replaced Spencer's pain.

"No. No! It can't be true! I _won't _believe it! She has to be alive!"

Shaking his head pitifully, Raoul looked at his shattered friend with compassion. Using a soothing voice, he tried to explain, "Spence, there was no way she could have survived. Her office was next door to Belier's. There is nothing left of the asylum. All we can do is find the masked man and make sure he pays for what he did to Christine and…"

Whipping his head violently to Raoul, Spencer threw his finger in the Vicomte's direction as tears poured down his face.

"NO! Don't you say it! Don't you use her name in past tense; she is alive! I know it! I would be able to _feel_ it if she was not alive!"

Suddenly, Willows began to hyperventilate as he tried to absorb the fact that his lover, his wife was dead…dead at that bastard's hands! Never had he felt as much rage and fury in his life as he did now. He could kill Erik with his bare hands, and if it was the last thing he did, Spencer would find that masked man and make him pay.

Nadir and Raoul had managed to hold Spencer down while he thrashed about and cried out in agony for Serene when out of nowhere, the man stopped shifting and became utterly still. Lifeless, the two watched the grieving man sit back lifelessly silent. Looking at each other worried, Nadir and Raoul were puzzled by the man's sudden immobile reticence. When Raoul tried to reach him, Spencer would not move or even react to his voice.

"I promise you, Spencer, on my life that we will find that masked freak and bring him to justice. He will not get away from us. He will not hurt anyone else. I will make it right for you, my friend. Just trust me."

While the Vicomte had not seen this before, Nadir Khan certainly had. Many times in his homeland, grief was not outwardly expressed. Raoul's head turned towards the Persian in wonder as Nadir shook his head.

"What's wrong with him?"

Pressing his hand over eyes, Nadir then massaged his temples with his fingers before answering mechanically, "It appears that our young man has fallen into a catatonic state."

**A/N: The song "Ashes and Wine" is a BEAUTIFUL song written and sung by A Fine Frenzy. I loved it and thought it fit. So, how do you all like this story so far? Again, I am sorry for the long update. Next chapter—More Erik/Serene battles, Christine meets some strangers, and Raoul tries to reach Spencer but to no avail…and someone is watching the masked man and doctor aboard the train…What about Madame Giry? What will she do when she realizes what Erik has done?—As always, please review!**

© Copyright 2007


	11. Chapter 11 Imminent Colliding Chaos

_Disclaimer: I absolutely do NOT own, nor do I gain any monetary subsidies, for this fan fiction story. The characters, setting, names belong to the author that created them (Leroux, Kay), BUT the plot is all mine!_

**Author's Note: Hello! Thanks for the reviews! Now we are making headway into this story! To answer a question many had, Christine did NOT have a daughter. The Christine in the garden is Christine Daae. Just wait and see how it is possible. As promised, here is chapter eleven with****Serene/Erik battles, Christine meets some strangers, and Raoul narrowly misses running into Christine…and someone is watching the masked man and doctor aboard the train…What about Madame Giry? What will she do when she realizes what Erik has done? (I apologize if there is a gross amount of grammatical/spelling errors. I was anxious to get this out!) **

_**Chapter Eleven- Imminent Colliding Chaos**_

Nadir and Raoul attempted to get the young man to speak but to no avail. Not acknowledging he even heard them, Spencer would just stare distantly ahead in the distance without flinching and barely blinking. He was lost in his world and Nadir feared that he could never be reached except through means of a miracle.

Nadir and the Vicomte discussed sleeping arrangements which both agreed that it would be best if Raoul lodged elsewhere due to the unfortunate memories that could plague both him and Madame Giry if they were to meet again. The Arabian would take Spencer to stay under Antoinette's roof for the night before they would meet Raoul at the inn and travel to Paris at dawn.

Parting ways, Raoul de Chagny headed off to a local hotel while the other two remained in the carriage, silent for different reasons. The beautiful scenery of Madrid did nothing to soothe the anxieties of the Persian nor did it even have an effect on the young man as the carriage jostled now and then.

"Spencer, all will be made right. I need your help. I need your guidance."

The man did not even respond to Nadir's words; he merely looked out of the window and sighed heavily. Contemplating anything that could snap the boy out of his reverie, the foreigner finally found the answer.

"Spencer, please look at me. This is very important."

Reluctantly, the brown-haired man turned to the Arab with eyes full of sorrow and question as the Persian took hold of the paper that had torn Spencer's world apart by its words. Taking a deep breath, Spencer both listened and watched as the feathers to his companion's Afghan hat swayed to and fro as he earnestly spoke with conviction, moving the paper as well.

"What if this was Erik's plan? What if he wanted everyone to _think_ your wife had died in the asylum fire?"

Cocking his head only slightly to the right, Spencer listened to the older man as Nadir was thrilled that he had the man's attention.

"I know Erik and his antics very well. He had not attempted to escape for three years, knowing full well he could. Why did he pick the time when your wife came if he did not have a plan that involved her?"

Spencer waited for him to continue, absorbing all his companion's hopeful words like a starving man clinging to crumbs.

"Here is my conjecture of what happened. Somehow, Erik was able to sneak out of his room and steal supplies needed to escape and make explosive devices. I have been to the sanitarium before and know how it operates, so I assume he was able to slip out unnoticed around lunchtime because most patients would have been sleeping due to laudanum while the attendants were outside on the patio. He placed the explosives wherever they were and went into your wife's office. I think he kidnapped her and took her with him before the devices detonated."

The young man's eyes widened as the life suddenly flooded back into his body. It was possible that his love could be alive! He could be with her…as soon as they found her. As his will to live came within his body, he suddenly found his voice.

"All we have to do is find out what he did after exploding the asylum and then we can find Serene."

Smiling, the young man sat back with such hope radiating from him that Nadir felt dread fill his own heart. How could he destroy this boy's fragile hope with the impending bad news that once Erik has no use of the man's wife, the masked man would kill her? No, he would not say anything. He would first consult the guidance of Madame Giry, who possibly may run into Erik and Nadir could only pray that when Erik visits her, he still has an alive Serene with him.

---On board the train---

The doctor and masked man did not sleep well, one used to insomnia while the other was not. As if tension between the two were not high enough, the lack of sleep seemed to steel Serene's nerves. If she was going to be Erik's prisoner, then she determined she would make his life even more miserable. An attendant came and brought them a breakfast of eggs and French toast as well as some herbal tea while Erik hid in the lavatory, avoiding suspicion.

Apparently, the masked man had ensured procurements while she had slept, something that did not sit well for her. Eating only a little of the food, she found the masked man watching her intently with those glaring gold eyes of his, which she tried to ignore but to no avail.

The masked man's eyes seemed to bore into her very soul. He ate nothing, only taking awkward sips of the tea due to his mask but Serene kept her gaze downward, not wanting to agitate him further.

He was tense and this made her uneasy. After swallowing some of the bread, she took a hesitant sip of her tea, her green eyes meeting the golden eyes of her captor with a strange vigor that renewed in both.

Setting her cup down, she suddenly found her voice, "What's wrong?"

Shaking his head, his eyes moved from her eyes to the door, "I'm sorry, what did you say?"

She felt her eyes involuntarily widen at his question, obviously perturbed at his inattention, a quality she never would have attributed to the Opera Ghost.

"I, um, asked what was wrong. You are tense."

Nodding his head, he responded curtly and didactically, "Ah, yes, I see now. Not that it means much to you, but I am experiencing an ominous feeling."

"I don't know why, considering I am positive all of Paris thinks we perished in the fire. Where in Spain are we going? That is, if you plan on keeping me alive until then."

His eyes flared with anger but then a calm serenity seeped through the fiery golden depths. He then returned to his reticence, leaving Serene feeling agitated. However, she was determined to try and get into his head, to know what he was thinking.

"Erik, do you mind if we have a conversation?"

The glaring black mask turned in her direction, his lips set in a tight firm line. He was not used to being like mankind in general and the thought of having a light conversation over tea sounded absolutely ridiculous to him.

"I am not one used to conversing with the likes of humankind. If you expect to exploit my weakness or believe that I will let you go out of the kindness of my heart, you are sadly mistaken."

A small smile settled on her features as she retorted quietly, "Monsieur Desslar, I already know your weakness, and it is useless to use her to add to your grief. As far as you letting me go, I know that is a lost cause. Besides, my husband probably thinks I am…"

"Dead? Well, I would hope so; that was my intention."

A hateful glare was directed towards Erik, but the masked man was not to be deterred. This was going to be a long train side, and he needed some amusement to entertain him during that time. She crossed her arms along her chest, and tilted her chin at him in utter defiance. Chuckling darkly at her behavior, he spoke in a methodically sinister voice.

"Perhaps I should put your husband out of misery, too. Would that please you? My, my, you act like a child fussing over spilt milk."

Snorting indignantly, she peered at him behind her squinted eyes, "How is it _I_ am acting like a child? I believe I have handled myself like a lady considering I have been kidnapped by the infamous Phantom of the Opera and forced on this train to heaven knows where in Spain. I haven't thrown a conniption fit…yet. Is that what you want, Erik? Is all of this what you want?"

Before he could stop the words from flooding out of his mouth, Erik responded with sorrow, "No, it isn't…all I wanted was Christine…just Christine…"

Both of them sat back for a moment in silence before Serene's soft voice filled it once more. "Erik?"

"Yes?"

"Did Spencer ever meet you? I mean to say did you ever try and hurt him?"

Sighing heavily, he passed a hand over his masked face in resignation and exhaustion before he spoke again. It was odd that he was talking so; normally, he was content not speaking in respite but he found that a life without a companion had finally caught up with him.

"No, I never would hurt a man like Spencer Willows. He truly was a breath of fresh air for me amidst a throng of egotistically sad excuses for humans that populated my theater. Willows and I never formally met but he was there at my weakest moment and did not betray me. He had every reason to either kill me or reveal my identity and he did not."

Nodding her head sadly, she looked at him again as acceptance engulfed her being. "Spencer is probably heading to Paris to what he believes the place where I perished in the fire. I wish I could have said good bye. I suppose I will never see him again, but he knows that I loved him. The sad thing is that we fought before I left and I walked out, refusing his plea for me to stay. I suppose I should have listened."

Cocking his head to the side, Erik nodded, "He truly loved you. Just as I was with Christine, he had your best interests at heart. And just like Christine did to me, you left him."

"Why are we going to Spain? You might as well tell me because sooner or later, I will find out. It's not like I can do anything about it anyhow."

"Once we arrive in Madrid, I plan to take us to Madame Giry's house. I need to get some answers."

He glanced in her direction as she briefly peered out the window before tentatively looking back at his intense golden gaze.

"You do not really know what happened to Christine, do you?"

He didn't respond, but his silence was an answer enough for Serene. A deep inhalation filled with pain and anguish from Erik revealed for the first time that the masked man had suffered hell just to stay alive. He had endured the asylum, innocent of all charges in regards to Christine's disappearance.

His gold eyes returned their intensive stare at her as she got down before his knees. Reaching out, Serene grasped his long and skeletal hands in hers without him protesting. Looking deeply into his eyes, she tried to comfort him. Why? Spencer had seen the good in this man, and she would, too.

"I understand why you remained silent all these years. You wanted to make everyone believe you were responsible for Christine's disappearance so that you could live long enough to find out what happened to her yourself because you knew that you would be hanged otherwise."

"It changes nothing between us. You are my prisoner, and you are expendable."

Smiling softly, Serene returned to her seat dejected but not deflected. "I know. I am just sorry that you had to suffer three years not ever knowing what happened to the woman you loved."

She then picked up a book that had been left in the room and began to read it. A deep sharp ache began to develop within Erik's heart as he fully realized for the first time that he had put Spencer through the very same thing the former Opera Ghost had suffered for nearly four years…denying the man the closure to what really happened to the woman he loved. Stretching back, the masked man lay recumbent while Serene slowly was lulled to sleep by the train's monotonous movements with dreams of some man playing Chopin in the distance.

Filling the need to sing, Erik began to hum a song before he opened his mouth and quietly sing the song aloud.

_Whenever I'm alone with you  
You make me feel like I am home again  
Whenever I'm alone with you  
You make me feel like I am whole again_

_Whenever I'm alone with you  
You make me feel like I am young again  
Whenever I'm alone with you  
You make me feel like I am fun again_

_However far away, I will always love you  
However long I stay, I will always love you  
Whatever words I say, I will always love you  
I will always love you_

_Whenever I'm alone with you  
You make me feel like I am free again  
Whenever I'm alone with you  
You make me feel like I am clean again_

_However far away, I will always love you  
However long I stay, I will always love you  
Whatever words I say, I will always love you  
I will always love you_

Outside the small cabin where the dangerous masked man and his prisoner were staying was the man that had followed them. A stewardess passed him with a bright smile as he nodded for the sake of politeness. Turning his attention back to the cabin, he pressed two fingers on the smooth metal surface of the pistol in his waistband. It was only a matter of time before he acted…he would wait until the masked man slept and then he would rescue the young doctor.

He could only hope that his boss would not rebuke his faithful 'servant' for doing the world a favor by ridding it of the monster that had terrorized it for the past ten years.

---Back to Spain---

Raoul had sent word through a messenger that he had made it to the inn and was settled until dawn. Spencer had said few words but those words were enough to satisfy the Persian. Nadir only hoped that they would find Erik before he disposed of the woman, if she was still alive. Looking at the brightness and vigor in the young man's eyes, the foreign man could not bring himself to tell his companion the potential bad news.

Upon arriving at Madame Giry's house, the servants showed them in the small but quaint home on the farm. They helped bring luggage to the two vacant guest rooms on the upper floor while Spencer made his way to the parlor where a small grand piano resided. His fingers literally itched to touch the ivory keys; he had not played since leaving the American shores. When no one came to stop him, his magnificent hands caressed the black and white keys of the beautiful instrument as he played Chopin's No. 21 in C Minor with finesse and splendid accuracy.

Nadir heard the piano's melody from the hallway and made his way to find that the young man was playing. As the Persian turned to leave after the young man had fully surrendered to the music, the young man suddenly flung his self from the piano with a raucous slam of the keys, falling ungracefully upon his bum in shock.

Rushing over to his companion's side immediately, Nadir looked over him with concern.

"What is it?! What happened?"

The young man shook his head and lifted his shaking hands to his face before his body began to shudder uncontrollably. Helping him to his unsteady feet, the foreign man led him to the settee to sit down.

A helpful servant brought some water which the man drank greedily before setting it upon the table. Looking towards the heaven, the man's lips moved but no sound came out as if he spoke a silent prayer.

When the shaking had lessened, the pianist turned towards the older man with wild eyes and a frenzied countenance.

"I saw her, Monsieur Khan. I saw Serene! She was sleeping…but I knew she heard me play but then…I saw a man with a gun."

To say Nadir was skeptical would have been an understatement, but he then fully believed Spencer when the young man said something that was very peculiar.

"You have to believe me. She may be in danger! This man was of short stature and seemed almost like a boy from the Middle East…"

Lifting a hand, the Persian silenced him. Pulling out a photo of Darius from his breast-pocket, he showed it to the man whose eyes widened in recognizance. Pointing to the man's photo, Spencer nodded incessantly as he fervently spoke.

"Yes! Yes! That's the man I saw. Do you know him?"

Closing his eyes in annoyance and anxiety, Nadir merely nodded.

"Yes, that is my manservant Darius. He is loyal but also foolhardy. This will not end well for him. I have to stop him."

"How are we going to do that? We do not even know where to begin to look?"

"We will have to part ways. You will need to go to Paris and look for any clues. Go to the carriage drivers and ask questions. Go to the train stations. Go around town to see if horses went missing or clothes…anything that might point to Erik's location. Raoul and I will stay here at Madame Giry's home in case Erik shows up here with Madame Willows."

The young man nodded, although he was still thoroughly shaken by what he had seen. Deep down, a sense of dread gripped his heart with icy fingers that both stung and ached. He decided he needed to go for a walk later that night. The two stood up and got ready to exit the room.

Suddenly, a woman entered the room. The woman was of a taller stature than most women and she dressed in a long black dress that indicated her widowhood. Her piercing black eyes had not lost any light or depth as they scanned the room, but her once black hair had begun to fade, as wisps of grey were evident. Her pale porcelain face contained lines that had not come with age but the stress accumulated over a lifetime.

Yet, she smiled brightly as she and Nadir Khan met eyes. The warmness of the two's friendship and connection filled the room, and even Spencer could feel the deep bond the two shared. Nadir approached her and out of formality and respect gave a mock bow as Spencer stood dumbfounded in the corner of the room.

"Madame Giry, it has been such a long time. I am most grateful to you for letting us stay, but I must ask a request. Oh, how rude of me, Antoinette, this is Spencer Willows. He is married Serene Willows, the doctor. Can we talk in private?"

Antoinette smiled brightly at the young man who still stood dumbfounded, too stunned to move. Nodding, she extended her arm as Nadir took it in his and the two walked out of the parlor to a more private place to converse.

When the two left, Spencer took a seat back on the divan and buried his head in his hands. Too immersed in his anxiety, he failed to hear the rustle of a dress as a woman entered the room. Hearing the footsteps, he lifted his head. His heart stopped within his chest as his eyes twitched, unable to process what he was seeing.

"Christine?"

The beautiful woman smiled sweetly at him before speaking, her voice just as lovely as the time at the Paris Opera House, "I'm sorry. Do I know you? My name is Christine Murdock. What is your name?"

His brow furrowed as his brain tried to process the information and failed miserably, "Murdock? No, it cannot be. You are Christine Daae! Everyone…thinks you're dead…You were the betrothed to Vicomte Raoul de Chagny. You are alive!"

Her breaths became short as her chest heaved up and down in fright from the man's frenzied state and harried hand gestures.

"I am sorry, Monsieur, you mistake me for someone else. Mama!"

As Spencer calmed down, he realized that the woman's blue eyes were blank. His arms fell limply to his sides before he spoke quietly, "I don't understand this; my name is Spencer Willows."

With a mock bow, his mellow behavior seemed to calm Christine down some. Sitting down, she offered him some tea and he sat down in the chair, taking a cup. Sipping quietly, he tried to perceive what was going on. What madness this was! But try as he might, his mind could not wrap around the fact that Christine was alive and his wife paid the consequence for it.

_---Across the hall---_

Closing the door, Antoinette embraced Nadir as the two reminisced of the time when their love was hidden behind the madness Erik had created at the Opera House. When she had fallen ill, Nadir and Erik had tended to her and that was the first time her heart allowed her to fall in love again.

Yet, they had been denied the chance to be together because not only societal rules but also because of Madame Giry's sacrifice. Nadir's warm brown eyes looked adoringly at Antoinette's black eyes, a deep love within his chest. They first acknowledged their mutual feelings when Erik had first fallen ill, and through the heartache, they were able to finally move past their haunted pasts and be the anchor that the other needed.

Their love had taken a slow and arduous path but had not diminished despite their masked man's maniacal antics and the crazy occurrences at the Opera House, having first began as guardianship to Erik then developed into a deep friendship, and finally to full blown blossomed love.

Removing his Afghan hat, he bent down and brushed his lips to hers before they two deepened it mutually. Holding her gently yet firmly against him, the two smiled, filled with utter happiness. As Nadir tried to deepen the kiss further, Antoinette was hurled back into the situation she had created and immediately (albeit reluctantly) pulled away from her lover's arms.

Confusion spread across his darkened countenance as he tried to understand why his love suddenly pulled away after such a long time apart.

"What is wrong, mon amour? Have I done something wrong?"

Her black eyes flashed to his stricken face, and she quickly grabbed his hands into hers, with a sad but loving gaze.

"Oh no, love, you have done _nothing_ wrong; it is what I have done. God have mercy on me! I am afraid Erik has suffered for nothing."

His dark bushy eyebrows rose at this and he whispered quietly, "What has Erik got to do with this?"

Instantaneously, a woman's voice echoed through the room, sounding urgent and frightened, "Mama!"

Casting a puzzled glance behind him at the door then turning back to her, Nadir's police instincts flared up once more. Something was horribly awry and his love had failed to tell him about it. Sadness and slight anger gripped his heart making him turn his back to her. He heard her take in a sharp inhale of breath before he felt her hands on his shoulders, trying to coax him to turn around.

"Mon chéri, please look at me; I have to explain. I need you to try and understand why I did not tell you."

Turning around, he looked at her, his eyes pleading for answers as his heart broke with love and compassion for the woman who had his heart, "Tell me; I want to understand."

Lowering her head, she looked back up at him, eyes brimmed with tears. She rose up and kissed him deeply, an urgent need for him evident in the kiss that left him wanting more but she pulled away.

Leading him back to the parlor, Nadir's heart dropped when he saw Spencer sitting in a chair, looking like he wanted to climb the ceiling in anxiety and a living Christine! His knees suddenly gave way, and he almost tumbled to the ground but Antoinette grasped one of his elbows while his other hand caught the edge of the couch. Shaking his head, he lost his usual calm policeman exterior, muttering, "This cannot be…How this is even possible, she's alive? What have you done?"

Christine stood up, as if nothing was wrong or odd about the situation and gave a curtsy to a visibly stunned Persian. Antoinette then spoke lovingly to her, "Christine, dear, do you mind going to the kitchen to fetch these men some supper?"

Smiling brightly, she enthusiastically answered, "Yes, of course, mama. Right away." With that she left the room. Nadir sat down, too shocked to speak while Spencer stood on shaky legs and both looked at Madame Giry with wild and confused eyes.

"How is this possible, Madame? How could you let my wife go to Erik, knowing full well Christine was safe and alive? She was the whole reason that Serene left!"

Antoinette's compassionate and remorseful glance did nothing to soothe the men's anxiety. Speaking softly, she spoke of how it was possible that Christine was indeed alive and seemed to have no recollection of her past at all.

"Here is the whole story; I am so sorry I did not tell you before but I feared for Christine's safety. Three years ago, Erik had kidnapped Christine and held Raoul and Nadir captive. After Erik's antics caused the Opera House to be caught on fire, Christine stayed with me at my apartment while the Opera House was being repaired. She told me how he let her go and how he told Raoul to marry her; yet I saw how torn she was. She was in love with both Erik and Raoul, though I tried to comfort her, but she was so devastated by the whole incident. I could not get her to eat decently for nearly three days before Vicomte de Chagny came to take her back to Sweden, her homeland to marry her."

Sighing she sat down next to Nadir while Spencer sat down as well, noticing how his companion was silent with an offended countenance directed towards the Madame. Yet, Madame continued undeterred by the pain the Persian man exuded.

"Not wanting to go alone, Christine asked me to go with her because she was to go to Sweden while Raoul finished with business outside Paris in Rouen. He would then sail to Sweden and meet her two days later. Because the two feared Erik's wrath, the whole plan was a secret. I agreed to go with Christine and we boarded a train that would take us to the harbor. The weather had been horrid. Apparently, the tracks had been displaced unbeknownst the conductor or anyone else in the train. No one anticipated what happened next. As the train crossed a bridge, the track that was damaged could not be seen from all the rain and the train hit them full speed."

Taking a handkerchief, she wiped her eyes and nose as she relived the horrible memory of what had occurred.

"I remember a great groaning and the screech of the train as it instantly derailed. We all were thrown around like rag dolls as the metal of the bridge collided with the derailed locomotive. Many people had fallen out of the train through the glass windows that had shattered upon impact whilst others were bloodied from the jostling about. People were screaming and crying for their loved ones as the half the train hung over the railing above the rushing water of the river. It was so cold…"

Her eyes glazed over and soon Madame Giry was not in her quaint lovely home anymore; she was on the train, looking down into the dark abyss where bloodied bodies had pooled collectively on the bottom of the cabin where it hung over the edge. Men were trying to rescue the women trapped and screaming for help in the swaying locomotive compartment, but it was no use.

"I looked over to find Christine's head was bloody, a large gash on her forehead. I struggled to lift her and when I did, I stumbled as the locomotive deeply groaned beneath the weight of the swaying compartment. I knew that at any moment, the train was going to crash into the river and we all would most likely drown or die of hypothermia. I could not let anything happen to my adopted daughter. I loved her far too much to let her suffer anymore heartache. The train attendants were rushing people out of the exits and back entrances, and I followed suit as best I could with Christine clinging to me. I needed to make it out. Once I made it out, the rain pelted our bodies. We both were immediately soaked to the bone. Lightning flashed all around…Thunder rumbled and river was noisily gushing past as if the earth was ready to swallow us all or make us drown. The rain, thunder, the screaming, the crying all melded into one agonizing wail to where I could not hear anything else. Christine began to awaken, although she was so disoriented. Encouraging her, we both struggled to get back to the land with the crowd of those who had escaped. The trapped people were looking out of the train windows or jumping out of them into the raging water, and I urged Christine not to look at them. We took shelter underneath a tree and she soon fell unconscious once more. Looking at the bridge, I heard the moaning of the structure before I saw it fully collapse. Some people were running to the land but failed to make it. Such a horrid sight! So many fell into the river and drowned due to the undercurrent. I held Christine tightly to me as she slept. The rain washed away any sign of blood while the other people began to cry and huddle under various trees. Some of the more stable men left to go get help while the rest of us waited."

Stopping, Madame Giry looked away but Nadir grasped her hand and stroked it lovingly. She turned back to him and smiled faintly. Their eyes communicating their love for one another, she continued with the fantastic story.

"Help did arrive and we went to the hospital. Christine stayed over one night before she woke up, completely fine after the doctor examined her. She was diagnosed as having acute memory loss. She did not know who she was nor could remember anything from her past. The Vicomte would not be able to see her, and looking into her eyes, I remembered thinking, 'I could make all her painful past go away. She would not have to suffer from her heart's indecision any longer.' I told her I was her mother and her name was Christine Murdock. I made up her past and soon she believed all I told her. I told her she bumped her head and forgot the past events. I hid her at my sister's home while I returned to Paris and told Raoul that she had disappeared before the train crashed. He automatically assumed it was Erik, and he got the Sûreté police to arrest the masked man and put him in a sanitarium. He was convinced that Erik did something to Christine…"

Spencer interjected loudly, "And you let Raoul think the woman he loved met some ill fate at Desslar's hands!"

Nodding slowly, her eyes were sorrowful as her voice cracked with emotion, "It was a sacrifice I had to make. Christine's heart was torn into two pieces and I could not bear to see her suffer. I could give her a better life. With Raoul's money, I was able to buy this quaint home and start a life with Christine. We have been happy for three years; she is a carefree woman like she used to be. If I could take away all the hurt, I would but there is nothing to be done."

Both Nadir and Spencer tried to understand, and both realized how close Raoul had come to running into the woman he thought was Christine Daae but he would not have anticipated running into Christine Murdock a different woman entirely within Christine Daae's body. The Arabian could only shake his head in amazement and despondency before speaking, his voice low and strained.

"Antoinette, my love, do you know what you have done? Erik escaped the asylum by burning it down, killing many within it. We have reason to believe he has Serene Willows, Spencer's wife, and we think he will come here with her if he doesn't kill her first."

Spencer cried out in horror, "What?! He can't kill her!"

Yet no one heard him, too absorbed in the fact that Erik was unknowingly heading right to the madness that he had helped start. Nadir proclaimed, "Allah, help us all if he finds Christine in her memory loss!"

**Author's Note: This is a particularly shorter chapter, but I thought there was enough twists and action to satiate your desires! Let me know what you think! Thanks for all the reviews and readers. How do you all like the Madame Giry/Nadir pairing? Was it realistic? The song lyrics were found on a website. They are not my own. Sorry, I am not **_**that**_** creative. I hope you all enjoy! The next chapter will have A LOT of action!**

**Sincerely, **

**RainsP.**

© Copyright 2008


	12. Chapter 12 The Tumultuous Trials Begin

_Disclaimer: I absolutely do NOT own, nor do I gain any monetary subsidies, for this fan fiction story. The characters, setting, names belong to the author that created them (Leroux, Kay), BUT the plot is all mine!_

**Author's Note: Well, for all of you action junkies, this is the chapter for you. There are lots of things going on at once. I would suggest listening to **_**Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End**_** CD for the action part on the train, preferably "Up is Down" or "I Don't Think Now is the Best Time" or "At Wit's End." It makes this chapter VERY interesting.**

**Thanks for the reviews! Please continue to R & R!**

_**Chapter Twelve- The Tumultuous Times Begin **_

It had all happened so suddenly…Serene and Erik were still shocked by what had transpired moments ago…The train trudged along, those upon it, ignorant of what had just took place above their sleeping heads.

How had it happened? It all started when the doctor and the masked man had just fallen asleep on the locomotive when Serene woke up due to a nagging feeling in her stomach that left her nauseous. Quietly standing up, she started to make her way to the bathroom, not disturbing her masked captor; when out of nowhere, she was grabbed from behind.

Any noise that would have escaped her mouth was muffled by a hand covering her mouth. The person held her tightly with the other arm as a young yet deep voice with a foreign accent whispered in her ear, "Shh, Madame, do not fret. I am here to save you from Desslar."

Nodding she understood, Serene closed her eyes as she felt the man lead her into the hallway. Occasionally, flashes of lightning illuminated the hall and she was able to make out his shape. Standing at a height taller than hers, Serene was stunned to see this man was nothing but a mere boy.

His skin was dark like a Middle-Eastern and his body was lean like an adolescent's. Yet, there was a gleam that the lightning sporadically lit up and to her horror; she realized it was a pistol. The train would have been silent except the raucous sound of the moving locomotive as it continued to trudge along on the tracks as well as the pounding of a storm's fury. The rain and thunder drowned out any sound.

They had made it out on the small balcony of the caboose. Rain instantly penetrated their clothed bodies, causing them to shiver. Yet, the boy turned to her and beckoned her to follow him still. Shivering, Serene casted an apprehensive glance backwards before nodding to him.

Suddenly, a lightning bolt flashed in the sky and Serene made out a black mask before a cry escaped her throat as she was violently pulled back into the train. Falling on her bottom, she managed to look up and see a very angry masked man glowering down at her. Her vision faded in and out from blurry to clear as she tried to regain her senses.

Thunder caused the train to vibrate as it rumbled the earth while the wind howled, sometimes simultaneous with the occasional train whistle. Struggling to her feet, the doctor was stunned to find the masked man and the boy fighting out on the balcony. Neither looked afraid of the other as they shared blows. Clearly, the masked man had the advantage of height, strength, and power; but the boy had determination and quickness.

Erik could see the gun now, but he did not want to kill the boy…no matter how insolent he was or how much of an aggravation he had become. Darius had served his master well. He knew Nadir had a soft spot for this young man, and even the former Opera Ghost had to admit this man had courage. Yet, he knew he must survive no matter the cost…or whoever got in his way.

Swinging his fist with full force, Erik heard a sickening crack as he made contact with the young boy's shoulder, satisfied that he had incapacitated Darius. However, the boy merely grimaced and simply popped his shoulder back into place. Then he hurled his entire weight and crashed into the unsuspecting masked man. They both nearly tumbled over the edge of the locomotive as Serene looked on in horror, unsure what to do but watch. Yet, they both grabbed the railing and threw themselves back upright. Erik snatched the boy's throat in a vice-like grip while Darius looked defiantly into his enemy's eyes despite feeling his oxygen slowly being cut off.

Both of their energies were being drained as the rain soaked their clothes, making their bodies heavy-laden. Somehow, the two drew strength from within their souls and continued to fight each other as Darius tried to reach for the gun while the masked man attempted to stop him. Lightning began to light up the sky in flashes that made any movement seem to be in slow motion. Serene knew that Erik would most likely kill the boy if she did not do anything to stop it.

Looking and feeling around her for something to use, she found a metal pipe of some sort. Taking it, she managed to stand fully on her unstable legs. Although wobbly, she came up behind a preoccupied Erik as he fought off the boy's blows and kicks. He had no time to react as he felt her presence behind him, so when he turned around at the same time she swung, the pipe smashed into his mask. Shards of porcelain fell first as the masked man slowly lost his vision and succumbed to darkness. His body fell to the floor with a thud as the doctor and stilled adolescent shared a questioning look. Was he really unconscious? Was he dead?

Wasting no time, the boy grabbed her hand and began to pull her out in the rain again. He climbed up the ladder that led to the top of the train, although he had to fight against rain in his face and wind pounding his body. Serene followed suit, fear totally gripping her heart. Making it to the top of the train, they both stopped as Darius spoke loudly, trying to talk over the storm's noise.

"There will be a mail carrier tower that will pass. There is an overhanging which we can grab and climb down by the ladder to escape and get off the train." Lightning flashed, momentarily blinding them before they recovered their vision. In an instant, Darius's eyes widened as he saw the dark cloaked figure shoot up the ladder and stalking towards them with glaring gold eyes. There was a glint emanating in his hands. It was a gun. With not a moment to spare, the adolescent sprung into action and shot at Erik. Blood was pouring from his infuriated and deformed face while shards of porcelain dug deeper into his skin at the impact of the bullet in his shoulder. Unfazed and full of adrenaline, the dangerous man kept stalking forward with his eyes ablaze. His shoulder was burning and nearly made him collapse, but the anger was far greater than even he anticipated. Curling his fists into balls, he gritted his teeth against the pain and the cold rain that soaked his entire being. The wind jostled them all about as they tried to maintain foothold on the train's roof. He could see the overhang approaching fast in the distance and found out their plan.

Erik Desslar would_never_ let them get away now. Taking the gun out fully, he aimed and shot at the boy who deftly dodged the bullet by rolling to the right. They both began to run to each other and collided in a furious brawl as Serene cried out for them to stop. While the he and the masked man were fighting, slyly dodging each others' punches, and trying to stay on the train at the same time; Darius called out to Serene, "No matter what happens, grab onto the overpass and run as far away from here as possible. Don't stay for me! Get away from here!"

Tears fell down her cheeks, mingling with the rain, and she nodded. The train was picking up speed, and they all found that their feet were losing traction fast. Turning around, she saw that the overpass was nearly ten feet away. What was eerie to her was the fact that Erik had not said a word during the entire violent exchange, but clearly his emotions were written in his actions.

Torn between guilt if Darius died and the thought of Spencer thinking she was dead, Serene felt at an impasse on what to do. She only had a window of time to escape but the boy was slowly losing the battle with Desslar. He needed her help.

Suddenly, she watched as the adolescent kicked the masked man as hard as he could while slamming his pistol into Erik's wounded shoulder. With a hiss of pain, the former phantom immediately relinquished his hold upon the servant boy. To her surprise, she watched as Darius stood above the wounded murderer with the pistol aimed straight into Erik's head. The masked man's glaring eyes flickered as the man tried to get his vision back.

The overhang was in her grasp, but Serene abandoned it and ran to the deformed man's aid. She pushed Darius as his finger pulled the trigger causing the gun to go off. The bullet hit the roof and ricocheted back to hit the boy in the chest.

Serene cried out in anguish and distress as she and Erik tried to grab him, but it was too late. They could not make it to him in time as the adolescent stumbled back and tumbled off the train into the muddy ditch, leaving him to bleed to death alone in the storm. For nearly five minutes, the two sat down next to each other, both feeling the trauma settle in at what they had ultimately done. There could be no turning back now. Desslar knew the doctor would never be able to get over what happened because even he could not get past each time he killed a man. The problem was that they both had consciences that would plague them until their death.

He listened as she openly wept and cried out for the boy as he stared silently into space, accustomed to bottling up his sorrow. Knowing there was nothing they could do, he stood up and used his hand to put pressure on his bleeding shoulder as the doctor pushed him away when she stood.

Erik was not a barbarian and so he let her deal with her own pain in her own way without his interference. Yet, this did not mean he was going to let her get away with trying to escape. She needed to learn her lesson but not that night.

They wordlessly made it back to their cabin of a room where he provided her with more stolen clothes which she dressed in the bathroom as he tended to his wound. When she came out, she sat down silently watching him as he removed his wet and bloodied shirt. Occasionally the lightning would light up the room and she saw the devastating evidence of the suffering this man had endured. Scars from whips and burns were implanted all over his chest, neck, arms, and back. There was a sickening small, black hole in his shoulder where pink tissue, blood, and some bone were seen. In fascination, she watched him as he deftly used his two skeletal fingers to pry out the bullet. The only sign that he felt a thing was a low whimper of pain before he pressed some antiseptic upon the wound which earned another groan.

He then covered it with cloth before using tape to secure the make-shift bandage in place. Putting on a dry shirt, he used a hand-held mirror to survey the damage to his face…well further damage. He meticulously and excruciatingly pulled each porcelain shard embedded in his face carefully, ignoring the pain and wiping the excess blood away.

Any sort of self-consciousness was gone, for he was too tired and wearied to care about his even more hideous visage. Besides, the doctor would not go anywhere. Her guilt would keep her with him; she would not dare escape again out of fear of another innocent's death. While he had grown used to death following him, he knew she was not.

Luckily, he had been fortunate to find a couple who had boarded the train after the annual masquerade that occurred at the Rochester's mansion. He managed to retrieve a white mask that the man had used there. When he put some antiseptic upon his scratched hideous visage, he placed the cold mask on his face. His wounds began to itch terribly, worsening his mood, but he knew this was to be expected.

When he looked at Serene, she sat rigidly still and stared out of the window. For a moment, he felt fear swirl within him. Had she gone catatonic again? Well, that would ruin his plans if she did. He needed her to speak. Yet, he found his fears were ill-begotten because she looked at him with those green emerald eyes, tears filling them.

"I wish I had been the one to fall instead of the boy. I deserve to die for what I have done."

He snorted with indignation as he scolded her as a mother would her ignorant child. "You are no more responsible for the fool's idiotic behavior than a man is for his terminal illness. He chose to be foolhardy, and he paid the price for it."

That earned him a countenance of shock as the doctor whispered in disbelief, "How can you be so cold?"

He did not answer, but he supposed she did not want one anyhow. Soon, she succumbed to sleep while he merely stared at her. She truly was an enigma; one moment fleeing from him, the next saving his life. His question to her that he could not seem to voice was, "How could you care about me to save my life more than once? What have I done to deserve such loyalty?"

Suddenly, he began to feel the icy grip of guilt settle in his heart, for he knew that in the end, she would have to die. That was the price she had to pay for his freedom, but he did not gather any enjoyment from that knowledge. So he returned to watching this fiery woman sleep, feeling the burdens weigh down his heart. He imagined Madame Giry would be surprised to see him and the doctor still alive…Yet; _he_ had no clue of what would occur in his absence.

_---The Giry Farm in Madrid---_

Christine had been watching the two strange men who had come to the farm with keen interest. The handsome younger man had not said a word since they all ate dinner. Her mama talked congenially with the foreigner as he, too, responded with fervor. They talked on various subjects: weather, travel, France.

Her mother's face lit up as she talked to the Persian man, and Christine was very ecstatic to see her mother look so happy. She had not smiled in such a long time. Suddenly, the man named Spencer threw his napkin down and stormed out of the room while her mama and the man's companion glanced in the direction he had gone, shocked by his inexplicable outburst. Before they could say anything, Christine ran after the man.

Spencer stood outside of the home on the back balcony, staring at the stars while the wind picked up around him. Hot tears fell down his face as he tried to still his erratic heartbeat. Madame Giry had sworn him and Nadir to secrecy, even though Spencer was infuriated with her for what she had done. He looked up at the sky, smelling the rain before the storm or clouds had appeared.

"Monsieur?"

A quietly timid voice from behind him spoke. Turning around he saw Christine standing in the threshold of the door. She was the last person he wanted to see; she had caused the entire nightmare to begin in the first place.

His voice raw and normally flawless face contorted and red with anguish shocked her but she approached him nonetheless. Reaching for him, she tried to extend some comfort, yet he turned from her embrace.

"What is it you want, Christine?"

"I want to know why you are so upset."

"Do you remember anything from your childhood?"

He knew he was treading on thin water, but he didn't care. He wanted her to remember and if he could help her, then he would.

"No, Mama told me I had an accident three years ago and I have amnesia."

"Have you ever wondered about your life prior to your accident? Do you ever wonder if you had a suitor? Do you ever wonder what your job was?"

She walked forward, arms crossed, and stood next to him while staring out in the distance. The wind whipping her golden hair around her as her blue eyes became bluer with the tears that now filled them.

"Of course I do, Monsieur…"

"Please, call me Spencer."

"As you wish…Spencer…I tried to remember, but I just could not. I am happy here with my life now. I have accepted the fact that I will never remember."

Instantly, Spencer was struck with an idea. Gripping her forearms, he turned her towards him as he spoke with earnest, "What if I can help you remember?"

Her brows furrowed as she spoke with doubt, "I don't know if you could do anything to help. What could you do?"

"Do you trust me?"

"I barely know you!"

She was getting afraid. He could see it in her eyes, and if he did not act now, he could lose her completely. Racking his brain, he decided to go with his instinct and prayed to the Lord that this would work.

"I know you barely know me, Christine. I would never hurt you, though. Have you ever…just wanted to go on an adventure? Do you not crave to see the world outside of Madrid?"

Her arms fell to her sides as his heart skipped a beat when he realized that he had hit the target with this woman. She wanted to know the world, and he would give it to her at any cost.

"I want to help you, Christine. I want to find my wife. I can see that you crave adventure, and I am on one to find my wife. We can help each other! Come with me. We can leave tonight; no one has to know."

The longing filled her eyes yet her brow furrowed with slight doubt. "What about Mama? What about your travel friend?"

Spencer mentally cursed but regained himself to answer her, "I will leave them a note. All will be well. We are traveling to Paris. Do you not want to go to Paris, France? It is a beautiful city; I can show you the magnificent architectural structures and gorgeous music that the city is filled with."

Finally, he felt her release the doubt and give in to him. Nodding, she spoke quietly, "I will get my things and meet you near the barn. Mama and I have three horses and we can take two tonight."

He smiled as she gleefully and excitedly went back into the house. As soon as she was out of sight, the smile faded. While she was ecstatic about going to a 'new' place, he was mindful of his agenda. Wiping his face with a handkerchief, he went back into the home and packed some of the necessities.

Pocketing some money he had brought, Spencer began to set out and was at the front door when Nadir stopped him.

"Where are you going, Monsieur Willows?"

Apprehensively, the young man turned to face the older man. Setting the bag down, he outstretched his hands and spoke, "I cannot be in this house with_her_. I am furious with Madame Giry and I cannot look at Christine without the agony in my heart. I need to leave."

He stepped halfway out of the door when Nadir grabbed his arm. Panic filled Spencer's body, thinking he was caught. Yet, his friend merely nodded. His deep accented voice spoke to him with compassion.

"I understand, my friend. Where will you go?"

"To the inn where the Vicomte Raoul de Chagny is staying. I will get a room…"

Warning flooded the foreign man's eyes as he urged the young man, "If you go to see the Vicomte, you can _not_ tell him about his fiancée."

Waving his hand dismissively, Spencer nodded, "Of course. I swore to the secret even if I do not agree with it at all. I will see you in the morning."

The foreigner smiled and let go of his arm to shake his hand. Waiting till the Persian retreated to Madame Giry's library, Spencer let out the breath he had been holding. Picking up the bag and quietly shutting the door, he sprinted down to the barn where Christine was waiting with the two saddled horses.

She looked stunning he had to admit in the moonlight with her white dress and blue cloak. Her blue eyes innocently looked at him and waited for his guidance. Securing both of their bags to the back of the larger black horse, he helped her get on her painted pony while he got on the black horse. Without another word or glance back, they rode at full speed into the darkening night to the train station where they would take the train to Madrid. What they did not know was that the very train with Erik and Serene would soon arrive.

It would be the next morning before Nadir and Madame Giry would find then note and two missing occupants. The note simply said:

_Madame Giry and Monsieur Khan:_

_I could not bear any more lies. I took Christine and I intend to make her remember._

_Sincerely yours,_

_Spencer Willows_

_---Back on the train---_

"Wake up, Doctor. We will arrive in Madrid's train station shortly, and I will need you to create a distraction."

Serene opened her eyes and merely nodded that she had heard her captor. For the entire night, she wondered why she had saved the masked murderer. The only conclusion she could come to was that she did not want the boy to suffer and regret killing a man. She knew the guilt that could come with killing a man…

She did not intend to be responsible for the boy's death also. The blood was on her dress that hung in the bathroom, but Erik had tossed it out while she had slept. She shifted uncomfortably before stretching her limbs while the masked man regarded her.

"What?"

"Why are you so silent? Is the guilt already eating at your soul? Do you fear God's rightful judgment so soon?"

His mocking tone only agitated her further and she whipped her eyes while the red and gold flakes in the green shone with her anger.

"You are trying to provoke me to anger. You want me to question my faith in God. I was only trying to prevent the boy from making a horrible mistake by killing you…He died because of me…"

"As I said before, you are not responsible for the imbecile's death. He chose to be reckless and come after me. As you can see, Madame, I am not one to be crossed. I warned you and you failed to heed my warning. What occurred…was of your own doing."

"You were going to kill the boy. I tried to do what was right. I did not run."

"I would have caught you had you succeeded in running."

"You failed in catching Christine when she ran…Or do you consider intimidation and violence to keep her from running a success? Or do you consider trying to make her love you by threatening her loved ones a success? Because as far as I am concerned, she won the moment she succeeded in eluding you. All that follows you is death, murder, and other such vile despicable things."

She knew she should have bit her tongue, but she could not help that the words flowed so freely out of her mouth. His gold eyes immediately flared with fury and his gloved hands clenched the arm rests before he sprung like lightning and snatched a fistful of hair, forcing her eyes to meet his infuriated ones.

Growling dangerously, "Don't you _dare_ presume judgment about my love for Christine! Or I will make good on my warning and kill you."

Defiantly, she met his wit and retorted haughtily, "You can't, remember? You need me a little longer. I hope Nadir finds you and gets rid of you. You truly are a monster. That's fine; go ahead and kill me. You are a coward! You are weak! Because people have told you all your life you are a monster, you actually have turned into one instead of rising above their ignorance and proving them all wrong. You instead proved them all right!"

Acting out of emotion and defensive anger, he struck her face, the impact causing her head to hit the window pane which busted her lip. Blood filled her mouth and began to drip on her dress, but she did not care. Instead she fought back and grabbed both sides of his face, ripping off his mask.

He hissed when those cuts were violently reopened and he glared at her with utter hatred. Forcing him to look at her bleeding face, she and he both never said a word as they stared into each other's countenances, both breathing erratically and feeling angrier than they have in a while.

She was the first to break the silence. "You just proved my point. Striking a woman is a sign of weakness. You are not worthy of my time. Spencer is and always will be a better man than you. At least if I die, I know that I died with a beautiful man who loved me, my flaws and all. What if you die, Erik? You fear death, but not in the way people do. People fear death because they want to live. Not you. You welcome death, but fear it all the same. You fear death because you have no one who loves you…The way that you are now; no one ever will."

Satisfied she pushed his deformed face away from her, knowing her words just shredded his wearied and tattered soul even more.

Yet, he kept his face stoic and replaced the mask she had torn off. She stood and made her way to the bathroom to make due with the wound on her face while Erik tried to steel his heart from her insulting words but to no avail.

He was furious with her, the world, and all mankind…All he wanted was Christine…All he would ever want would be Christine. Burying his head in his hands, he tried to forget. He heard her enter the room and raised his head to face her while her face resembled his stoic countenance. She kneeled before him and contemptuously inquired, "What would you have me to do?"

His lip twitched in renewed agitation as his eyes slanted, "Listen carefully."

_---Madrid Train Station---_

Spencer and Christine managed to get tickets for the next train to come in. They were sitting on a bench, waiting on the Paris train which would arrive within the next ten minutes. They both sat in a tired stupor as the crowd of people became denser as more came to get tickets. In the distance, a train whistled as it slowly pulled in to a stop.

Absentmindedly, Spencer watched the people vacate the train while Christine read a local newspaper. Suddenly, a woman caught his eye. Stepping out of the cabin, a brunette haired woman who nervously looked around approached a carriage right outside the landing. Standing up, he called out while Christine looked on interested in his strange behavior.

"Madame! Madame!"

Turning around, the two met eyes and realized each other's identity. Serene! His wife was alive! Tears came to his eyes and he barely remembered telling Christine to stay on the bench before he ran to her.

Immediately, they ran into each other's embrace, weeping with utter joy. "Oh thank God, I love you so much! I am so thankful you are alive! Serene, my love, look at me."

When she did, he was horrified by the purple bruise and cut on her lip. Anger filled his being as utter terror filled her eyes. She looked around in trepidation before pulling him to the side of the carriage, away from the public's eyes.

"My love! Oh, Spencer, I am so sorry I did not listen! You must get away from here! You must leave!"

Smiling, he looked at her with confusion before shaking his head, "No! I am not leaving you! I am not going to let you go!"

"Oh, I do doubt that."

A dark and menacingly voice derisively replied from behind them. Serene started to hyperventilate and immediately stood in front of the man she loved. Spencer turned and finally saw what had her in knots. The former Phantom of the Opera stood there in all his glory, a menacing white mask increased the terror his aura emanated.

"I won't let you hurt him!"

He chuckled darkly before stepping closer to the lovebirds, "Ah, such loyalty. I am afraid you have served your purpose."

Pulling out a gun, he aimed at Spencer's head while throwing Serene to the ground harshly. She cried out and Erik jammed the gun into the chest of her husband while she tried to stop the masked man but he merely shoved her back down.

Yet, her husband made no cry or protest. He merely laughed joyfully, which caused Erik to hesitate long enough for Spencer to knock the gun out of his hands. Immediately, his wife snatched it off the ground and stood up. Aiming at the masked man, she hatefully commanded, "Now, Desslar, you need to go or else I will pull this trigger."

The masked man snarled at her, "Shut your mouth, you vixen!"

Her husband took the gun from his wife's hands and approached the masked man. Grabbing the phantom's gloved hand; the young man placed the gun in it as Serene cried out in objection. When Erik looked at him in question, Spencer elaborated.

"Go ahead and kill me or my wife. In fact, kill us both…Unless you want Christine…"

The gun dropped from his hands and the masked man grabbed Spencer's coat by the lapels and snarled into his face, "Do not meddle with me boy unless you want to taste the sting of death!"

Spencer stunned them both when he merely smiled, "As I said before, kill me and you will not get what you want: Christine. That is why you have done all of this, right? You want to know what happened to the woman you love? I have the answer and all I want is your word that you will leave Serene and I alone. We will return the favor."

Forcefully throwing the young man back, the masked man merely stated in an even tone, "Fine, I accept your terms. I will not hurt you or your wife. Now tell me about what you know about my Christine!"

Spencer's smile never faltered as he mimicked Erik's voice, answering, "She is here."

**A/N: So now we shall delve into Erik and Christine moments. Ah, this story is FAR from over. How did you all like this chapter? Was there enough action for you? There will be more action; for Madame Giry, Nadir, and Raoul de Chagny are all in the same city. How will Erik help her remember, or will he try to start over with her? Also, Serene and Spencer reunite with the passionate love the two have been desperate to share. Please r&r! **

© Copyright 2008


	13. Chapter 13 The Masked Man’s Heartache

_Disclaimer: I absolutely do NOT own, nor do I gain any monetary subsidies, for this fan fiction story. The characters, setting, names belong to the author that created them (Leroux, Kay), BUT the plot is all mine!_

**Author's Note: I must admit I have been anxious to have current Christine/Erik interaction as well as Serene/Spencer moments, so that partially explains why this story was updated so quickly (for me at least)…I hope you all do not mind. Thanks for the reviews!**

"_Love takes off masks that we fear we cannot live without and know we cannot live within."__  
__James A. Baldwin_

_**Chapter Thirteen-The Masked Man's Heartache**_

Erik shoved the man back and rounded the carriage blindly, not even caring about the danger he was subjecting himself to. Yet, Spencer was quicker and ran past the frenzied masked man back to the landing. Christine now stood, obviously worried, seeing her friend's face. Before she could ask, he grabbed her arm and pulled her in the direction of the carriage where Serene helped her inside. He spoke quickly, out of breath and anxiously to his wife with specific instructions.

"Serene, she has no memory of the past three years. Take her to the parish outside the city. I will come when all is safe."

The former Phantom was stuck in the throng of people but managed to get a glimpse of Christine's back.

Pushing through the people rudely, he began to make his way to the carriage that now was moving. His throat had become unnaturally dry as he tried to look for a way to catch up to the stagecoach that was becoming more distant. He was absolutely furious with the man who managed to outwit him.

Making it to the spot where the coach had just been, he heard that blasted man call his name; blind with rage, Erik whirled around and grabbed him with his gloved hands, intent on making him suffer.

Spencer shoved him by the shoulders, causing Erik to double over as he felt the warmth of the blood that was leaking from the shoulder wound. The pianist spoke quietly and calmly, "Erik Desslar, Phantom of the Opera, or whoever you wish to be; I do _not_ intend to keep you from the woman you love unlike what you did to me. I just need to tell you something first."

Growling the masked man uneasily stood up and he glared at the man impatient but willing to listen to what he had to say. The young man gestured and led him further away from the growing spectators who tried to eavesdrop on what the strange men were doing.

When they were not within the crowd's earshot, Spencer told him why it was not good for him to reunite with Christine.

"Erik, I must tell you the story. If you had rushed to Christine, you would have frightened her…No; I am not saying she is frightened that you would hurt her. No, I am saying that…Here's why: she has no memory."

Erik's eyebrows rose behind his mask, unable to know how to feel about that. He did not remember whispering, 'How?' to the young man.

"You have to understand before I tell you that I promised her that I would let no harm befall her, so don't try and 'steal' her away because she will grow to hate you. Learn from your mistake. Alright, three years ago, you let Christine go after that fateful night. She and the new Comte were going to get married, but they both were terrified that you would try and ruin it. They came up with a secret plan to elope in Sweden where Christine and Madame Giry would first take a train then a ship. Raoul would go later on. Unfortunately, the train where the two women were on derailed and many people died. Madame Giry saved Christine's life and took her to a hospital. While there, the doctors told her that Christine had amnesia from the wound on her head. She did not remember anything from her past."

Erik nodded as he listened intently, trying to grasp the understanding that the woman he loved did not remember him…or her beloved father…or the events of that fateful night. Spencer spoke once more, his tone sad and sympathetic to the masked man.

"Madame Giry told Nadir and me that she was tired of seeing Christine's heart torn between you and de Chagny, so she saw this as a sign to help Mademoiselle Daae get rid of her heart's indecision."

Spencer paused when he saw the masked man's aura emanate anger, but Erik encouraged him to continue the story.

"Madame Giry told Christine that she was her daughter, Christine Murdock. She also told Christine a plethora of lies about her beautiful childhood and life while she told Raoul that Christine had vanished before the train wreck. Those lies made de Chagny attribute his fiancée's 'disappearance' and train wreck directly to you. That's why he came after you so vehemently."

The depth of Antoinette's betrayal stung Erik's heart so deeply, his heart thundered in his chest. The masked man pressed a hand upon his chest, hoping to calm his racing pulse. Tears burned a path down his throat to the ache that was forming in his chest. He had known…felt…that she was hiding something from him; yet, he had no idea of the magnitude of her betrayal and it was destroying him.

"Ah, I see. She remembers nothing?"

"Absolutely nothing! For the past three years, Antoinette and she have been living on a small ranch outside here in Madrid. She has kept a close eye on her 'daughter' to prevent any recognition. As far as Christine knows, she is Antoinette Murdock's daughter and that she had an accident where she cannot remember her blessed childhood. She has no memory of Raoul, you, or her time in Paris. She does not remember her father…Imagine my astonishment when Nadir and I ran into her when we were stopped at Madame Giry's home. I, of course, called her name and berated her for causing you to escape the asylum, kill people, and kidnap my wife! She instantly became frightened, thinking me mad!"

Stopping briefly, the two traveled to a stalled carriage and Spencer paid the driver to go to a parish where he had sent Christine and Serene so they all could correspond in peace away from the others.

Once the men were safe and secure in the coach, Spencer continued speaking.

"Madame Giry and Nadir came in, and apparently, your foreign friend had no clue of what Antoinette had done, for he too was stunned. She sent Christine out of the room and told us the story. She begged us to swear secrecy. Reluctantly, we agreed…"

Holding his hand up, the masked man's gold eyes flickered with agitation and the contempt in his melodiously dark voice was evident, "What about de Chagny? Did he not come with you and Khan? Did he see her?"

Shaking his head, the pianist reassured the tense man, "No. He was uncomfortable with staying with Madame Giry, knowing the friendship between you two, so he stayed at a local inn until dawn when we all would leave for Paris. Yet, I had other plans…I was going to take Christine to Paris and to the Opera House in hopes of her remembering…Fortunately, I found my wife instead!"

Erik touched his mask absentmindedly as he tried to gain some understanding of what he had just been told. Yet, he was finding the whole situation was confusing his heart. She did not remember? She did not remember him or the music he had gifted her? Yet, he was thankful she did not remember the horrifying events of _Don Juan's _premiere. He was thankful she did not recall his hideously abhorrent face and how he reacted. Maybe this was his chance. Maybe he could start anew with her…

As if reading his mind, Spencer Willows spoke softly, "I am not going to tell you what to do; you will do what you please, but I offer a cautionary warning, Desslar. She is _very_ fragile and any emotional tumult will end in disaster. Make sure you do not hurt her a second time."

Erik looked at the man who had given him another chance with Christine. This man truly was wonderfully generous. He did not judge nor did he conspire with Antoinette's lies. He always tried to do the right thing even back at the Opera House, and the masked man's heart was touched, a rare feat. Staring at the pianist who was politely staring out of the window at the passing scenery, Erik felt guilt grip his heart once more, and for the first time in nearly two decades, he said those forbidden words.

"Spencer, I apologize for hurting your wife."

The man looked at the masked one and just smiled softly, as if he knew that those words were difficult for the former phantom to say. He waved his hand slightly before retorting, "Alas, you are forgiven, Desslar. You have had such a hard life; I have had one, too. As long as my wife is safe from harm, is alive, and is emotionally secure, I have no qualms with you."

What Spencer did not know was that his wife was very much traumatized by Darius's death while Erik dreaded the inevitable outcome of Nadir finding out that his adopted servant was no longer part of the living.

_---Madame Giry's House---_

Madame Giry was the one to find the note earlier that morning and had been in hysterics. Nadir tried to comfort her, but she was inconsolable. If Christine indeed did remember, the former ballet mistress feared her hatred. Christine would never forgive her for denying her to be with Raoul and for lying to her.

Nadir promised her that he would go and find Spencer before anything could happen. The Comte de Chagny had arrived at dawn and without a word about Christine, Nadir informed him that Spencer had taken off and they needed to go and find him.

Silently, the two set off as Madame Giry remained behind once again left to suffer the consequences that could be traced directly back to a certain masked man. She could only pray that Erik did not find Christine first.

_---At the Parish---_

Serene was in a tumult of emotions, yet she was thrilled that her husband had found her. However, she also feared that Erik would kill him…just like that poor boy. She was also stunned that she was in the presence of the infamous Christine, who based on what Spencer had told her had no memory.

The former opera singer glanced around the vacant room of the parish, obviously perturbed with the abrupt change of events. Smiling to offer some comfort, Serene reached out and touched the woman's arm.

"Hello, Christine. My name is Serene, and I am Spencer's wife."

Her frightened blue eyes relaxed slightly before she spoke, her melodious voice like a singer's. "He had been distraught about your disappearance. He must be thrilled with finding you. I am at a lost, though. Where is he? What are we doing here? What's going on?"

Opening her mouth, Serene was about to reply when the door opened and her husband entered. Rushing to her, he grabbed her into his arms, whispering how much he loved her while Christine smiled as her heart was touched by the tender scene. Something within her heart felt troubled also, and she did not know where it came from.

Spencer returned his attention to the two women and informed them, "This is the plan. We all will return with the original plan. All of us will leave tomorrow for the noon train to Paris, France. I intend to keep my promise of showing you the wonders of Paris, Christine. That is, if you still wish it?"

The woman revealed a devastatingly beautiful smile and nodded enthusiastically. Spencer turned to Serene, who was just happy enough to agree to anything he said. Stretching his arms out, he chuckled, "Good. Come. The parish minister has been kind enough to let us all stay here tonight. I will show you to your room, Christine."

"That sounds wonderful. What about our bags?"

"I managed to have diverted the luggage carrier to send the bags here. They should arrive shortly."

After showing Christine to her room, Spencer took his wife to the room they had been designated. The rooms were small but quaint. The room they were given was a slightly larger and had a large bed with comfortable blankets and a dresser with a mirror next to the large windows that showed the beautiful scenery of Spain. The bathroom was to the left of the dresser and the walls were a deep green. The wood floors were neatly polished, but none of that truly mattered to the reunited lovers.

Spencer lifted a hand and brushed a stray lock from his wife's face. Her green eyes shone with adoring love as his hazel eyes did the same. Pressing a warm hand on her cheek, she leaned into his touch with a soft sigh. They both looked at each other and he brought her closer to him, needing her more than he had ever needed her.

Suddenly, the door opened and closed loudly, causing the married couple to jump out of their reunion. Serene's eyes widened in terror as Erik began to approach them. Out of instinct, she stepped in front of her husband while he wrapped his arms around her waist and rested his head on her shoulder.

Turning his lips to her ear, he whispered, "It is alright, my love. All is well. Monsieur Desslar and I have reached mutual common ground. We have arrived at certain terms. He is just here at my request."

Rotating in his embrace to face him, her emerald eyes shone with tears and this tore at his heart. Wiping her tears from her cheeks, he was surprised and felt the familiar pang of doubt begin to claw at his brain. What did that masked man do to his wife?

Before he could think anymore, the masked man's deep but beautiful voice resonated in the room. The two turned around to look at the black shadow of a man as the white mask glared beneath the fiery golden eyes.

"I have given you two a gift; I expect something in return, for I normally am not so generous, especially to mankind. This is the plan that I have created and am most comfortable. If you value your lives, you will follow my plan."

Images of the train fight flashed through Serene's mind when the masked man threatened her life again, and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep from blurting out what he had done to Darius. She could not afford anything happening to her husband. Erik paused, noting the color drain from the doctor's face, yet he paid no heed.

"We will take a train to Paris, and Christine is _not_ to know of my presence until you show her the Opera House. Then, we will meet on my terms and you two are to stay out of our way. Is this all understood? I will always be watching, so if you decide to double-cross me, I assure you that decision will be your last. I bid you adieu…for now…I will return in the morning with further instructions. Oh, Monsieur Willows, do not think for one moment of attempting to contact Khan or Antoinette or especially the _Comte._"

He spat the last word out as if he just had tasted poison. With a mock bow, he turned and disappeared just as quickly as he had come. Like a true apparition, he certainly proved himself capable of being everywhere and always watching.

Once they were alone again, both released the breath they had been holding since Erik entered the room. Leaning his forehead on hers, Spencer looked deeply into his wife's eyes and found she was troubled. She was not telling him something, and he wished she would confide in him.

"Serene, my love, tell me what is troubling you."

She bit her lip and nervously looked at the door then back at her lover and tried to assure him, "Nothing is wrong. That man just makes me nervous. I will be fine."

The way she said the last phrase did not convince either person it was the truth. She knew he could get hurt if she told him what Erik and she did to that small boy. Even worse, she feared her marriage would not be able to withstand another murder. She hated lying to herself and even more so to her husband.

Without any more thought, she grabbed him and began to feverishly kiss him. At first, he tried to stop but then he felt his resolve waver and he finally gave in, returning her kisses with as much fervor as she.

Kissing and touching each other, they made their way to the bed where the collapsed in their frenzied passion. It had been far too long and they both needed to lose their selves in each other, however for different purposes. She was trying to forget what she had done and the fact she will never be the same while he was trying to help her remember the way they were.

_---Down the Hall---_

Christine found herself thinking of Spencer Willows again. She was afraid she was beginning to fall in love with him. Her cheeks burned crimson as she mentally reprimanded herself. How could she fall for a married man…especially one who adores his wife so! How could she fall for a man she barely even knew! Yet, she had never encountered someone quite like him and she realized she was falling for him nonetheless.

When her mother had taken her to town on numerous occasions, she had seen and became acquainted with local boys, yet none held her interest. When Spencer had come, he had been passionate about his wife. He was so vibrant and it did not hurt he was handsome with his defined structures and golden hair. Something was familiar about the way he looked, but she did not know where it had come from.

Sitting in front of her vanity, she began to brush her hair and prepare herself for upcoming dinner with the minister's family and the Willows. She could not believe what a turn her life had taken. Yet, she was absolutely thrilled that she was on this adventure with two people she was growing to like more and more. The Willows were very interesting people who seemed to be more complex than she realized.

Setting the brush down on the embroidered doily, she felt that something was still amiss. It seemed to her that part of the story was missing; the Willows seemed to know something she did not. Well, she determined, she would have to secretly find out.

Smiling she began to pin her hair up in a bun and dressed in a yellow sundress, which was a favorite of hers. Placing a shawl over her shoulders, she decided to go talk with her travel companions down the hall.

When she exited the room, she felt a slight whoosh of wind that blew past her neck as if a person had just walked by her. Turning around, she found the hallway empty and silent. Shaking her head, she quickly ambled towards her destination ignoring a soft and tortured whisper, "Christine…"

She raised her fist to knock the door when she heard a raucous clamor near her room, but when she turned around, there was only a silver platter on the ground and some fruit rolling from where it had been dropped. No one was present.

Shivering from nerves, she was beginning to feel like she was haunted or that the place had ghosts. Returning to knock on the door, she screamed when a hand caught her wrist. A soft male voice quickly responded, "Quiet, Mademoiselle. It is fine. I am the minister of this parish. I am Reverend Daniel Polders and I was coming to see if you or your companions needed anything else."

Her heart beat began to normalize when she realized that it was only the minister. Yet something in her mind did not believe it was just the minister. There was something following her. Smiling she told him that there was nothing they needed.

The cleric was a short but lanky man with a crooked yet adorable smile and personality. He was young but already in the process of balding and his eyes were a deep brown that were the most kind she had ever seen. When he was sure she and her companions did not require anything, he smiled.

"Great, then I look forward to introducing you and your friends to my family at dinner. I expect to see you around five in the dining room. One of the vicars will be here to show you to the room."

"That sounds wonderful. I know I look forward to meeting your family."

Once he was out of sight, she decided not to disturb Spencer and his wife and returned to her room. Closing the door, she sighed. Thinking to her self, 'I am losing it. I need to get it together.'

Taking off her shawl, she placed it on the chair and stopped short. Upon the white windowsill, there was a single red rose with a note with her name scrawled in red messy handwriting. Picking up the rose, she smelled its sweet scent before placing it back on the bed. Opening the letter, she found the same red sloppy handwriting.

_My Dear Christine:_

_You may not remember your past, but I have the key to helping you remember. We will meet soon and I promise that you will see me soon enough._

_Always yours forever_

_E.D._

_Also—upon arriving in Paris, follow the music. Follow the music._

Christine set the note down next to the rose before she sat down on the bed too. What did this mean? Who was E.D. and how did this person know her? What did 'follow the music' mean?

Closing her eyes, she caught a glimpse of a broken mask, but then it was gone as quickly as it had come. Sighing, she lay back and slowly fell asleep when her head touched the pillow, exhaustion finally settling in.

_There was mist on some lake, but no sunlight…no light at all. There was frigid air all around her and she felt chilled to the bone. She was in a white wedding dress with blood on it. How had this happened? Her mind was confused but she kept running. She was vaguely aware of hearing the sound of the orchestra playing with fervor… the audience's thunderous applause… and the voices of opera singers…but none of those things were in sight._

_She was not sure if she was running to or away from someone. There was someone calling her name, another one pleading, and another voice screaming. Maniacal laughter filled the air as the sound of gushing water flooded her ears to the point she covered them to block out the raucousness. _

_She vaguely recalled her own voice pleading with a shadow of a man and begging him to end the pain…What pain? The last thing she remembered was looking up and seeing the black mask and those familiar gold eyes…A deep voice seduced her senses and made her close her eyes against its beauty as it whispered, "Christine…"_

_Opening her eyes, she reached out to the mask and responded with fervor, "Erik…"_

Violently, she awoke with a start. A cold sweat had broken out on her forehead from the dream. It all had been so vividly real to her, yet she had no idea what to make of it. Who was the man in the mask? She had called him Erik.

Getting out of the bed, she rushed to the dresser and grabbed paper and a pen to write every detail of the dream down. She was beginning to hope that her memory could come back. Yet, she failed to realize that perhaps the best way to remember the past was to forget it ever existed in the first place.

The masked man watched her from outside the window before he turned his horse around. He hated to leave her, but he had to ensure that his _friend's_ path was deterred. They could not risk Khan and that blasted boy finding them otherwise the masked man would lose the woman he loved a second time. Casting a longing look, he urged the horse on away from the parish and, therefore, away from the woman he loved.

_---Room down from Christine's---_

Spencer brushed a stray lock from his wife's face. He was enjoying her beauty and warmth once again. They had nearly devoured each other an hour before, making love more than once. Each time, he found those tears in her eyes. They never fell, though, and she would do something to his body which would make him go blank.

Yet, he remembered now. She was hiding something and Desslar knew it, too. What had he done to her? There was guilt in her eyes every time she looked at him. He pulled her sleeping form to his tense one and gently kissed her cheeks, lips, eyes, and shoulders. Each kiss he willed his love to be expressed.

Moaning, she rolled over to her other side and pressed her face in his chest and sighed. He closed his eyes and tried not to chuckle. She always managed to surprise him or make him laugh, but he was just glad she was alive.

She began to stir, indicating she was waking up. Opening her eyes, she was still groggy from returning from the dream world. When her eyes settled on her husband who was staring down at her with utter love, a large smile spread across her face.

"So it was not a dream…You and I are together again…"

Kissing her lips, he savored the feel of her in his arms once more. Nuzzling her nose with his, he began to passionately kiss her, eliciting moans from both of them. Rolling her atop him, he rested her head against his chest. She heard his heart beat and the sound of his breathing, and that soothed her anxiety she was experiencing from the incident on the train.

It felt wonderful to lay in bed with her loving husband and just bask in the silence because she had been in nothing but noise and turmoil within the last month. She felt that Erik would confront her when the two would be alone and she dreaded it.

"Spencer, can we not just go home?"

Looking at her inquisitively, he kissed her forehead before rolling her back to the original position to face him in the bed. Stroking her cheek lovingly, he answered her.

"We will once we are through with my promise to Christine and Erik."

"Why do you want to help them?"

"Because Serene, they need to have closure. He does love her and because of unfortunate circumstances, they never had a chance to be together."

"He is a murderer."

"Serene, we should not judge the man. From what I know, the murders he committed could be considered justifiable. Buquet sexually assaulted many of the ballet girls and nothing was done. Erik seems to be making amends…All he wants is another chance with Christine."

The memory of Darius's bloody face as he fell from the train to most certain death flashed through her mind, and she closed her eyes to blink back the tears. Sighing she spoke again, "What if Raoul or Nadir finds them? There will be all out war all over again."

He closed his eyes before kissing the bridge of her nose. Holding her closer to him, he retorted, "Let us not underestimate the masked man. The Persian and the Comte do not know where we are. We are one step ahead."

Sighing, she kissed his shoulder lovingly, but expressed her worries.

"I just have a bad feeling this will not end very well."

That was the end of the conversation because dinner would be ready in two hours. Getting up, the lovers showered and got dressed. The bags had arrived only moments before and once the two were ready, they set out to have dinner with the minister and his family.

The vicar showed them to the dining room where Christine was already waiting. The table looked beautiful with arrays of food spread on silver platters and candles. Serene and Spencer held hands and let go only to have Spencer pull out her chair for her. He did the same for Christine who sat across from Serene. Sitting down next to his wife, he noticed she was still upset but was desperately trying to hide it. He intended to find out what was bothering her so much.

Soon enough, the Reverend and his family, wife and two small boys under the age of five entered and took their seats. With a prayer blessing the food, everyone at the table began to eat the deliciously prepared food. The conversation was jovial and all of them were pleasant to one another.

Serene tried to enjoy and fully engage her self into the conversations, but the guilt of what happened to Nadir's servant was eating her alive. Looking at Christine, she saw that the woman was staring at Spencer with a longing look.

Brow furrowed, Serene did not like the fact that Christine may becoming a bit _too_ attached to Spencer. Gently, she placed her fork down and grasped her husband's hand. Turning to his wife, he took a bite of potatoes. Christine looked down when she saw Serene send her a warning look.

She had been caught, but not for the reasons she believed. The young woman was staring at Spencer, wondering if he knew who this Erik was. It was far-fetched but possible. He seemed to have been adamant about knowing her when he first came to her home. The masked man's identity was gnawing at her. She felt she should know him, but she could not remember.

The rest of supper was without further incidence. Once the family and the companions were finished with the meal, their stomachs were very full. Soon enough, sleep began to claim them all.

"I am afraid I must retire. My family and I would like to thank you for having dinner with us. We know you are leaving tomorrow morning, but we wish that you will come back in the future. You have been a pleasant group for this parish."

Thanking the parish minister for his and his family's hospitality, the three people made their way to their rooms in silence, each in his or her own thoughts. Serene's mind was troubled as to whether she should tell her husband about Darius while Christine was trying to decipher the dream's meaning, and Spencer was beginning to wonder where the masked man had disappeared to.

_---Train Station two hours prior---_

Nadir and Raoul had made it to the busy train station, tired but ready. The Comte had asked about the whereabouts of his friend and the Persian was not happy to lie to the man, but he told him that Spencer could not wait and decided he would go ahead to Paris. Perhaps that was the partial truth.

Removing themselves from the horses' backs, the two tied them to the posts. Raoul looked around and decided that he would go buy the tickets.

Yet, out of nowhere a small boy ran up to them and snatched the money bag, running at full speed through the crowd. Both men ran blindly after the boy crying out in protest but they soon found the boy had slipped away with their money supply. To make matters worse when they returned to their horses, they found the creatures were nowhere to be found.

"What is going on?"

The Comte threw up his hands in utter frustration, losing some valuable things in the robbery. Now he would have to go to the bank in Madrid which did not open until the next morning. Nadir looked around, wondering if Erik was there, but he soon pushed the thought past because there were no flaming gold eyes around. Erik would not risk exposing himself to people who could attest to him being alive. Yet, he still wondered.

The two men decided to head back to Madame Giry's house to retrieve some more money and horses before coming back the next day to take a train.

The boy ran through the stalled trains and arrived at the other landing where a man in the shadows had returned. Handing the masked man the bag of money, the boy held out his hand. Erik grumbled, "Good. Here is your share as I promised."

Once the boy scampered off with a hefty amount of change in his pocket, Erik placed the bag on his horse and rode off into the sunset with two extra horses tied to his. He had managed to keep them from getting one step ahead. All he needed was to have Christine to his self…and she would see…she would see…that they were meant to be together.

**A/N: I am glad that many people are beginning to read and really enjoy the story. Hopefully, I will be able to update this story again this month, but I doubt so…Perhaps a little motivation is in order. I tried to give you all a bit of everything! Hope you all loved it! **

**Sincerely, **

**RainsP.**

© Copyright 2008


	14. Chapter 14 The Maelstrom Approaches

_Disclaimer: I absolutely do NOT own, nor do I gain any monetary subsidies, for this fan fiction story. The characters, setting, names belong to the author that created them (Leroux, Kay), BUT the plot is all mine!_

**Author's Note: Here is Chapter 14! Enjoy! Thank YOU SO MUCH for the reviews. I decided to begin with each chapter with a quote or two since I love them so! We have a villain enter the story that will leave Erik meeting his match!**

**Warning: There is a bit of romantic displays in this chapter, but nothing graphic. So if you wish to skip it, then go ahead.**

"_**Celebrate your success and stand strong when adversity hits, for when the storm clouds come in, the eagles soar while the small birds take cover."**_

"_**Faith is not simply a patience that passively suffers until the storm is past. Rather, it is a spirit that bears things - with resignations, yes, but above all, with blazing, serene hope."**_

_Corazon Aquino _

_**Chapter Fourteen- The Maelstrom Approaches**_

Stepping off the Parisian train to Madrid, Captain Agnew felt refreshed like a tired leopard that suddenly caught wind of its prey. He adjusted his brown wig and those familiar tight set lips twitched with irritation. His piercing blue eyes glanced with malevolent annoyance at any one who passed by him; he was on too important mission to be deterred by some dwindling idiot.

Not for one moment did he believe the masked man had perished in the bombings of the asylum. He was quite sure that the masked man had facilitated the entire fire that had claimed many lives, including the young and beautiful Dr. Willows.

Armand Agnew was as cold and indifferent to others as they come. Yet, his background seemed to contradict this character. Growing up in Paris with two loving parents who doted on their only child--a boy, Armand thrived and achieved wonderful grades in school. Never lacking a friend, he was rarely home, always on adventures with the other children of the neighborhood. His parents both worked for an honest living that made the small family's living comfortable.

He was well-liked in school, home, and the neighborhood and he never got into trouble. His father worked in the Parisian military while his mother worked as a teacher at a local primary school, and Armand strived to be the best as his father dictated. Excelling in every area, Armand attempted to seek his father's approval; yet, as a military officer, his father remained stoic. Years passed and the friction between him and his father only increased to the point where the two did not even speak to each other when he reached the age of sixteen.

Perhaps the deciding factor that created the cold and ruthless man he is today, Armand fell in love with a young woman from a Jewish family when he had seen eighteen winters. His mother approved of the union, seeing how completely happy her son was with this nice lady. Unlike her, Agnew's father was vehemently against the potential union and had ensured that they would not be together by conspiring with the woman's father to get her married to another man.

His son was crushed and from that moment on, his heart had stopped caring about other people. He never spoke another word to his paternal parent and moved out, breaking his mother's heart. Working various odd jobs like a blacksmith's assistant, horse trainer, and mail carrier, he never felt a belonging.

Becoming bitter and selfish, he withdrew into himself and decided to enroll in the Parisian police academy right after his twenty-first birthday when he had run out of other options. There he excelled as a police officer and actually loved his job. He had a dream to become one of the youngest Captains in his division and did succeed in doing so within a year.

His record was spotless in capturing criminals and getting the answers he wanted from them in a matter of hours. Years passed and he had the highest criminal capture rate and criminal imprisonment rate in his division of the police force. His men were well-trained and he ensured his police force's success.

He never had any trouble until he met the masked phantom, Erik Desslar. The high cheekbones burned with fury at the mere thought of his challenge. Never had he experienced such an enigmatic and stubborn criminal, but he had anticipated getting the answers he needed within a few hours or days at the most.

Yet, the masked man defiantly resisted him. The Captain had grown to hate the masked man for his sheer iron will. He would **never** be bested by some criminal; it was demeaning. The more the masked man held his ground, the more obsessed with defeating the former phantom Captain Agnew became.

After the asylum fire, he and his men scoured all of Paris for any sign of Desslar but found nothing. Examining the masked man's file at the station, Agnew tried to find some clue that could point to his criminal's whereabouts and found Madame Giry was possibly the only person that Erik could trust.

She had a secluded home in Madrid, Spain that he could easily hide in until he planned his next move…or crime as far as the Captain was concerned. Getting a ticket for the next train to Madrid, the Captain retrieved his badge, gun, and two uniforms and left.

When he arrived, he breathed in the brisk cool air, signaling the beginning of spring. Before he could even make his way to the carriages to hire one to take him to Madame Giry's home, a young boy ran in front of him. Glaring down at him in mild aggravation, Agnew adjusted his navy blue overcoat to reveal his gold badge and gun. He was a police officer and he would not have some pickpocket try to take his money. However, the young boy held up a piece of paper to him.

"I 'as told to bring ye this paper, sir."

Taking the paper, the Captain watched the beggar boy run off with some gold coins the policeman had bestowed him. Opening the folded piece of paper, it simply read:

_Captain Agnew: _

_I knew you would eventually come to Madrid because you and I both know Erik Desslar is very much alive. I have some valuable information for you. Meet me at Madame Giry's house at six this evening._

_See you there,_

_D._

Agnew glanced around him, his policeman skill instinctively flaring up. Placing the note in his breast pocket, he decided to pay a visit to Madame Giry's home and wait until the note's mysterious writer appeared. He could only hope that he will find Erik and get rid of that pest once and for all.

_--The Parish--_

Erik watched Christine from the shadows; she could not see him, and he was glad. His emotions were all over the place especially with seeing her again. She did not remember him, and that tore his heart but she also did not remember that blasted boy either. He could make her fall in love with him. Learning from his prior mistakes, he could woo her and win her heart. He once had her soul…

The four of them would be leaving today and heading back to Paris, which Erik felt some dread over. Most of Paris believed him to be dead, finally enacting his one final performance. Yet, there was a nagging feeling in the pit of his stomach that bothered him. What would go wrong?

'_Everything could go awry…'_ His mind screamed. Suddenly, Spencer spotted the masked man who was too distracted by his own thoughts. Making sure they would have time alone, the two men entered the storage room all the way down the hall where no one went.

Closing the door, Spencer turned to the masked man with his brow furrowed. Outstretching his hands, the pianist spoke quietly, "Where have you been, Monsieur Desslar? I was beginning to worry that something happened to you."

The gold eyes flared with irritation, "Do not lie, Willows, you merely worry about yourself. I assure you that the plan is still in motion and you and your wife will follow it or else you will suffer my wrath…I simply left to ensure that no one would interrupt our rendezvous back to Paris."

Alarm flashed in his eyes and the man whispered urgently, "You did not murder anyone, I pray?"

Crossing his arms across his broad chest, the former phantom glared at the man across from him, looking much like a gargoyle that sat atop the Gothic churches.

"That is none of your concern, but no, I did not. I only made sure that Khan and de Chagny would be…delayed…"

Relief then spread across Spencer's face. Assuming the meeting was over, the masked man approached the door, but the pianist unconsciously grabbed Erik's arm. Every muscle twitched and tensed immediately under Spencer's grip.

Barely controlling the anger that welled up within his body, two gold eyes gleamed as they perceived the pianist.

"Wait for one moment. I wish to ask you one more question."

Letting go of his arm, the pianist backed away to give Erik room to be more comfortable as well as himself. Pressing a hand to his wearied forehead, the masked man merely watched the man struggle to speak.

"I have noticed that something is bothering my wife…"

"What is involved in your and your wife's marriage life matters little to me." Erik interjected, annoyed by the mention of Serene.

"I understand that, but she will not tell me of the time that you two spent together or the escape."

"She is a smart woman for doing so."

"Damn it, Erik, I gave you Christine! The least you could do is answer my one question. What is my wife so upset about?!"

Taken back by the normally soft-spoken man's outburst, the former Opera Ghost regained his senses and coldly retorted, "I lack compassion; she knows this. That question is meant for your wife. Does she not trust you enough to tell you? It appears so, and that is not of my own doing. You will have to ask her."

The man was angry, that Erik could tell; anger radiated from his form in waves, but surprisingly the man merely sighed. Stepping in front of the black clad figure whose very appearance was intimidating, the man looked up into the menacing mask and quietly whispered.

"If you hurt my wife…that will be on your conscience not mine. You may claim not to have one, but you do. In order to love and feel pain, you must have a conscience to feel such things. So no matter what happens…If your plan to make Christine fall in love with you, what you did to my wife will forever haunt you. She will grow to hate you, too."

With that said Spencer's hand touched the door knob, preparing to leave, but this time Erik stopped him by placing a gloved hand on his shoulder.

"Wait."

The captivating voice lured him to turn around and see Erik's eyes…no, not the glowing gold ones, but his actual eyes. They were a bronze color with yellow specks around the pupil. He could easily see how so many fell under his spell, a deadly thing for sure.

"What do you have to say now, Desslar? If it is only insults and degrading remarks, we are truly finished."

"I will tell you only for Christine's sake. My compassion is not for you; it is only for her. Yet, this is not the place to have this discussion. We need to get on the train, and I will contact you when we need to meet. Right now, though, we need to leave."

Spencer merely nodded and left without a word, leaving the masked man to question if he truly was getting soft.

_--Once aboard the Train--_

Christine watched Serene as she placed her luggage in one of the closet compartments of their cabin. Spencer, his wife, and she all were sharing a whole cabin to themselves, which would be interesting indeed.

Christine was struggling to fight the feelings in her heart for Spencer, but she was having difficulty. Something about him was so familiar, and every time he discussed music, she found she was enthralled.

Her mother once told her that she had loved music as a child and sang all the time, but she stopped singing after the accident. She loved seeing the passion in his eyes and how they lit up every time she spoke of playing. His hands were truly magnificent like a musician's with long slender fingers that were always as expressive as his face. Each time she saw them, some locked memory in her brain would almost break through, but it failed.

She was really wishing that she had the memory of her past back, but it was not looking like it was going to happen. Knowing that she needed the answers to her past, she had to keep trying otherwise she could never have a future.

A tendril of straight brown hair slipped out as Serene sat down, her energy exerted on trying to get settled in. Smiling Christine tried to mend the tension between the two of them, but Spencer entered the cabin and Serene's attention was diverted.

Immediately, he went to his wife and kissed her. Something within Christine's heart snagged and her breath caught in her chest. It was all too familiar. She was about to leave the room to get some fresh air when she realized that the Willows were speaking to her.

"Christine, do you need anything?"

"No, I am just fine. I think I will go get some fresh air for a while."

"That sounds fine; there is a door that leads out to the back of the train where you can watch the land pass by. This is going to be a long train ride."

Nodding, Christine quickly left the room, leaving the married couple alone. Serene's green eyes bore into her husband's as they struggled to find the words they were so desperately longing to say.

Spencer pulled his wife to her feet and gripped both sides of her face with his hands to observe her. She closed her eyes as he leaned in. His lips gently caressed hers before he passionately kissed her, causing their knees to feel like jelly. Prying her mouth open, he slipped his tongue in and the two began an ardent display of affection as their tongues explored each other. He pulled her body to his, pressing her back into the wall so she would feel his pleasure.

A shocked gasp escaped her lips as her eyes opened and stared at her husband in wonder. Where did this passion come from? Her name came off his lips, guttural, and he greedily took her mouth again. His hands were touching her all over, eliciting a pleasured moan from her, which only made him want her more.

"Make love to me, my love…I need you now…"

Spencer stopped his pleasurable displays to look at her, making sure he knew what she meant by that.

Struggling to regain breath and refraining from making love to her then, his voice was husky and quiet, "Tell me why you need me…" His body was on fire and he wanted her so much, as evident by the almost aching display below his torso. Moaning almost painfully, he pressed his forehead on hers and looked into her eyes before he finally got control of his body.

Leading her to the sitting area of the cabin, they sat down and she laid her head upon his chest. He felt the coolness of her tears through his white shirt and he rubbed her back, trying to soothe her anxieties from which he did not know the origin.

Closing his eyes, he pressed a quick kiss atop her head. She looked up at him, and he was stunned by the sight. Her eyes were pure, the way eyes become after tears have been shed, and her wavy brown hair cascaded down her back and her cheeks were slightly red from their earlier passionate performance. Once again, he felt himself become aroused. How he wanted her! Yet, he was not a selfish man. He knew he must find out what is troubling her so much so that she is trying to forget it even by…gratifying means.

He felt her fingers touch his lips, and his body instantly went up in flames. He kissed the tips of her small fingers before he pulled her atop his lap. Her head lulled to the side as she moaned deeply, her passion instantly reignited has his. She then began to undo the buttons on his collar, pressing deep kisses on the side of his neck, earning his groans of pleasure.

Trying to keep in touch with reality and his bearings, Spencer spoke in interrupted breaks, "Serene…oh…please not now…I need…I need…I need you to tell me what is upsetting you so…Please…or Erik will…"

The last three words immediately sucked the passion right out of her. He felt her pull away from him both emotionally and physically as she backed away from him. She looked at him in fear, shaking her head as tears fell, eyes wide.

Her voice hoarsely spoke, "No…No, I cannot do this… No, I cannot lose you."

This struck fear in his heart, and he got up and reached out to her with his hands but she kept proceeding to back away.

"Serene, my angel, I am not going anywhere. You will not lose me. Tell me what is troubling you so…"

Turning her face away, he wiped the tears from her eyes. She was about to tell him; he felt it in his heart, but unfortunately a deep voice pierced the room with utter spite, "Alas, she fears to tell you that because of her, a young boy is dead…"

_--Madame Giry's House--_

Captain Agnew approached the door, carrying his usual air of arrogance, ready to meet with this woman to get the answers he needed. Knocking on the door, he adjusted his uniform when to his surprise; a foreign man opened the door.

Shock registered on both faces before Agnew spoke in his typical detached voice, "Ah, Nadir Khan, what a pleasure to run into a former police officer. I assume you are here for the same purposes as I. May I come in?"

The officer did not fail to notice the squinted suspicious eyes of the Persian before he was let into the home. The small ranch home was quaint, but Armand had seen better homes. Perusing the rooms, he looked for any sign of the masked man but to his dismay found none.

He felt the suspicious eyes of the Persian but ignored him before he sat down in one of the arm chairs next to the fire. Nadir cautiously sat down, wary of the police captain, all too aware of the man's agenda to make Erik suffer.

Madame Giry entered with a tray of tea and placed it down on the table. Agnew assessed her in his irritating police characteristic way before he introduced himself, standing up. Outstretched hand, he spoke in a voice that seemed to reflect that he was bored, "Hello, Madame, I am Captain Armand Agnew of the Parisian police force. I am here in regards to a former asylum patient, Erik Desslar. I read in the file that you and he had a…mutual friendship…I was wondering if I could ask you some questions."

He caught sight of the trepidation that coursed through her black eyes before she spoke almost similarly to him…dispassionately, "Well, it is a pleasure to meet you, Captain. However, I am afraid I cannot help you since Erik Desslar has not come here. I do not think he will anyhow. He is far too intelligent than you give him credit for."

Damn insipid woman! How dare she insult him? Does she not know who he is?! Smiling a false grin, he looked to the Persian and asked him if he knew about the whereabouts of the masked man.

He gave him a similar answer to the one Giry gave him. Sighing with frustration, he was about to ask another question when a young man walked into the room in the middle of asking where the silverware was when he stopped once he saw the Captain.

Smiling broadly, Captain Agnew assessed his superior with a mock bow and gracious mannerisms, making Antoinette want to gag from the falseness of it all.

"Comte de Chagny, it is a pleasure to see you again, unfortunate under these circumstances however. I assume you are here to ensure this masked maniac is captured."

Raoul passed a hand through his blond hair as his stunning face assessed the Captain, mistakenly believing him to be of no threat at all. Perhaps it was the mutual feeling of hatred towards Erik Desslar that bonded the two.

"Captain Agnew, it is indeed a pleasure to see you once again."

Shaking hands, the Captain nodded in agreement.

"Yes, the money you donated has indeed helped the police department ensure my officers are well-equipped to deal with criminals."

Rolling her eyes, Antoinette turned to Nadir and the two silently agreed and left the room. Once out of the room, the two kissed and he held her in his arms. She was trembling from fear for Erik not for herself and Nadir knew that.

"It will be fine, my light. Nothing will come to harm Erik. He is far too intelligent for the likes of Agnew."

Looking up at him, she touched his cheek, lovingly, "If he asks to join you and Raoul, promise me that you will make sure Erik is not severely hurt if there is a scuffle."

"I swear to Allah that no harm will come to our masked friend as long as I have any say in the matter. I managed to keep Raoul level-headed before; I am sure I can do so again."

"Do not tell them about Christine. Please, you have to find her before Spencer does. I cannot believe he ran off with her!"

Holding her head against his chest, he whispered, "I know, my dove. I will make sure Christine is unharmed in this situation, but do not hate or be angry with Spencer; he is only trying to find his wife. He is as desperate to find her as we are to locate our masked man."

Nodding into his chest, she had to agree, but she feared that things were only going to get worse. Meanwhile Captain Agnew and Raoul chatted light-heartedly about the police force and how to locate the masked fiend. Antoinette Giry could not have been more right when she assessed that things were indeed about to get worse.

There was a knock at the door and when Nadir opened the door, his manservant Darius stood with his arm in a sling and in dirty and tattered clothing. His face was black and blue as if he had decided to paint his face. One eye was swollen shut and lips had a cut in them. His one good eye focused on Nadir and he boldly spoke.

"Hello Master…"

_--The Train--_

Christine hummed her favorite lullaby as she dined on her food, slightly perturbed by the reticence of her travel companions. Serene looked as if she was horribly upset and Spencer kept trying to touch her or gaze longingly in her direction. Ever since she returned to the cabin, the atmosphere had changed drastically and she had no idea why. There was no reason for it, and she feared that it was because of her.

When they finished their meals, in silence, Christine retired to her section of the cabin to go to sleep. Serene and Spencer had not spoken since Erik decided to inform him about what happened to Darius.

He was horrified to learn about it, but now understood why she felt so guilty and was terrified to tell him. Yet, he blamed Erik for what happened and not her. He did not have time to tell her so since Christine came back into the cabin as Erik barely escaped without detection.

The married couple entered their room, both emotionally and physically drained. Yet, Spencer needed her to know how he felt about what happened to Darius. She struggled with her dress and he approached her.

Wrapping his arms around her, he pulled her back to his chest and whispered how much he loved her. Unbuttoning the dress, he was shocked to see the corset so tight. He wondered how she could breathe in the blame contraption.

Turning, she slipped the dress of her head and the corset as he saw what a nuisance it was to her body. She then put on a thin nightgown and silently slipped into the small bed, if one could call it that. Pulling a chair to the side of the bed, he stroked her face lovingly as she gazed at him. Both were silent but Spencer spoke quietly and adoringly.

"Serene, you are my love and light. You mean more than anything to me, and I do _not_ blame you for what happened to that boy. If Erik had not kidnapped you, then none of that would have occurred. Yet, I must ask…did he do anything else to you like…"

She immediately sat up, alarmed. Gripping his arms then his face, she whispered urgently as to not awake Christine or where Erik could hear them. "Oh, no my darling, he did nothing like that to me. No matter the atrocities he has committed, he would never hurt a woman or child. That I know! You don't hate me?"

"Absolutely not! You are my world and so much more. You are my lover…Go to sleep my love, I have to go make sure that no one has seen the masked man. I also need to check with the conductor about the arrival schedule, so that we can figure out a way to get the masked man off the train undetected."

Nodding, she slowly turned on her side as he lifted the coverlet over her nearly sleeping form. She closed her eyes and soon drifted off to dreamland. Getting up, he quietly exited the room.

When the pianist left the cabin, the masked man entered. He feared watching Christine sleep because she could wake up at any moment. He also wanted to speak with the doctor. It was imperative that he reconnect with her. She may be the deciding factor if Christine regains her memory and try to run. She would look for an ally and the doctor would be just that. If he and Serene Willows were on good terms then Serene would encourage Christine to trust him.

Slipping into the darkened room, his gold eyes gave the only lights and they settled on the woman's sleeping form. She looked so vulnerable and he had heard her defend him, and she was correct; he would never hurt a woman or child.

Taking the seat her husband had just occupied, he gently called her name. Stirring out of her sleep, she groggily tried to regain focus. When she realized who had called her name, she frowned immediately.

"What do you want, Erik? Do you wish to torment me?"

"No, I want to make peace with you."

She scoffed and sat up on the bed, trying to perceive him in the darkness. He could see her clearly, and he saw her beauty in the darkness. Willows was a lucky man to have such a fiery woman as his wife.

"Peace? Oh, I see. You wish to make peace in case Christine remembers and comes to me."

"I do not always have an ulterior motive, Serene. Your husband seems to trust me."

"My husband is a good man with a wonderful heart. He would not want any one to not feel loved. He loves me, and you almost cost me my marriage. How can I trust you?"

"I give you my word that no harm will befall you. I never make promises…I assure you I may not be much of a man, but I do keep my promises. I never say things I do not mean."

"I wish I could believe you, Erik. However, I saw the monster you can become on more than one occasion, and I have a dreadful feeling. You are capable of hurting any one…especially my husband, so why would I want to help you. Spencer does not know you, but I do. His goodness blinds him to the danger that you are…If you kill him, then you will have to kill me. He is my whole world."

With a dismissive wave of the hand, Serene became quiet. "Please spare me the petty details of your husband's valor; I need not hear them. I only wish to make a truce."

Her eyes squinted in apparent disbelief. "Really…I do not believe you for a moment. You wish only to serve your own agenda. It's always about Christine…it always has been. I am no fool, so do not treat me as if I were one."

Exhaling slowly, he tried to reign in his frustration. She was making this _very_ difficult. How could he make her see that he was sincere in the idea of a truce? Lifting his hands to his masked face, he saw the air catch in her throat when she realized what he was doing. Taking off the black mask, he stifled a groan when the cold air hit his naked face. The lacerations were still present from the fight with Darius, and the air caused them to throb painfully. His gold eyes peered deeply into her defiant ones and he saw her relent somewhat.

"Look at my face, my true face, and you will see my sincerity. I do not want animosity between you and me. We have been through much the past two weeks. I merely ask you to give me a chance to redeem myself in your eyes."

"Why? Why is it so important you have my acceptance?"

"So that I can have _one_ person's acceptance!"

His outburst surprised both of them, and Serene realized that he had unwittingly bore his deep fear—a weakness—to her. The normally masked man was horrified that he let a vulnerability slip out. Spencer must have seen this side of him the night on the rooftop, too. This is what he had been trying to tell her. Erik had to suffer unimaginable grievances, which resulted in him doing unthinkable acts, but all he had ever wanted was acceptance and love like every other person in the world.

She was not excusing his behavior; she merely understood an aspect that influenced it. His uncomfortable cough brought her out of her reverie. She unknowingly had been staring at him the whole time in silence and he clearly was uneasy. Smiling, she nodded, bringing some relief to Erik.

"Fine, I will trust you to keep your word on one condition…"

'_Women and their incessant need to be dominant…' _His mind grumbled. Bearing in mind that she was beginning to soften, he knew he had to continue in that direction until she finally gave into his requests.

"What is that?"

"That you do not lie to Christine anymore. Be completely honest with her, even if it means exposing your weaknesses. If you do not hurt her or lie to her, I will do what it takes to help you. Spencer will, too."

Placing his mask back on, he felt his confidence return tenfold. He was once again the strong and resilient phantom. The door to the cabin opened and footsteps could be heard approaching the room, signaling Spencer's return. Turning back to Serene, he nodded once before he silently slipped out past her befuddled husband.

Lying back in the bed, she watched her husband come in and look at her in wonder before taking off his clothes to climb into the bed with her. Wrapped in her husband's arms, she felt secure and safe.

"Erik wished to make a truce with me, Spencer."

Pressing a kiss atop her head, he spoke as she felt his voice rumble in his chest. "Oh, is that so? Well, perhaps things will look more positive hereon out."

She could only silently agree. As she fell asleep, she was unaware that her husband was beginning to doubt his confidence in the masked man. A growing sense of skepticism and distrust was building within his heart.

Erik could be a very convincing man should he wish to be. The problem was that Spencer knew all too well what happened to the women that choose to put their trust in him. Soon these incredulous thoughts ceased as he drifted off to sleep.

Meanwhile, Christine tossed and turned as she tried to retain sleep but it was not coming to her. Sighing with frustration, she tossed the beige coverlet to the side and stepped into her slippers. Grabbing a ruby red robe from her closet, she stepped out of the room. It was eerily quiet in the cabin as the train trudged along. Her friends were asleep in the next room, and she was thankful. She needed time alone to sort her thoughts out.

The air was slightly brisk as she sat at in the chair by the window and watched the moon-lit scenery pass by as time seems to slip by unnoticed or uncared about. Sighing, she rested her head upon her hand as she tried to get a grip of what was plaguing her thoughts. Something about Spencer was _so_ familiar, yet she still had no idea what it was.

And what about the masked man named Erik? Where did he come from? Her dreams were increasingly becoming filled with hauntingly beautiful music and a man's voice. She still did not know what to make of it.

Suddenly, there was a creak in the floorboard behind her near the door. Whipping her head around, she almost screamed but something caught in her throat, preventing her from doing so. There he was…the man she was just thinking about. Was she imagining this?

Dressed in a black tuxedo with a long black cloak, he was intimidating with the black mask and gold glaring eyes that flickered every time they glanced around. Her mouth went uncomfortably dry, but she managed to hoarsely whisper, "Erik?"

Just as sudden as he had appeared, he vanished. Rushing to the spot where he had just stood, she looked for any sign of him but he had vanished into thin air. Did she just hallucinate that encounter? If so, what did this Erik want from her? And why did he wear that mask?

With those questions pestering her, she was not able to sleep until the early hours before dawn. When she caught sight of him, Erik's body instantly was petrified. He had not anticipated running into her much less her seeing him! He was shocked to the very core; yet she had said his name!

He was beyond ecstatic! There was a chance that she remembered him, but then a sense of dread settled in. What if she recalled de Chagny or the events of the night that tore them apart? For once, he was glad to be on a train, for if she did remember, there was little she could do about it. He would just have to wait for the morn in order to see if she would alert any attention. If so, he was unsure about how to handle it.

His instincts, on the other hand, were telling him that she did not remember everything. Her subconscious had just voiced his name. Deep down in her soul and mind, he knew she recollected who he was. It was up to him to bring it out…after she had fallen in love with him.

He managed to get some sleep with the reassuring thoughts that Christine could love him again. Placing full confidence in his plan, he found no error in it. However, Erik would find that like his past plans, this one would have disastrous results as well.

**A/N: Well, this is a long chapter for the long wait you guys had to endure. Hopefully, this has satisfied your desires for now. How do you all like Captain Agnew? He is becoming more fun for me to write…I hope that none of you found the Nadir/Madame Giry pairing in poor taste. I tried to make it realistic.** ** As always, please R & R!**

© Copyright 2008


	15. Chapter 15 Memories Triggered

_Disclaimer: I absolutely do NOT own, nor do I gain any monetary subsidies, for this fan fiction story. The characters, setting, names belong to the author that created them (Leroux, Kay), BUT the plot is all mine!_

**Author's Note: Chapter Fifteen is an interesting chapter, which took some time to pre-plan. Hopefully, you guys appreciate the effort I am putting into this. As long as there are readers, I will continue. So I thank the BEAUTIFUL people who review and thank even those who just read. I pray I hear from you eventually?? Oh well…--Sorry for typos/grammatical errors…will try to fix those that are in here.**

"**Ideologies separate us. Dreams and anguish bring us together."****  
**_**Eugene Ionesco**_

"**'Tis best to weigh the enemy more mighty than he seems."**  
_**William Shakespeare**_

_**Chapter Fifteen-Memories Triggered**_

Spencer and his wife waited in the isolated part of the train after telling Christine that they needed some fresh air, when in fact, Erik had summoned them earlier that morning with a note requesting their presence.

This did not bode well for the married couple; they knew something had changed. Dressed in a simple lavender summer dress, Serene was underdressed compared to her husband in his immaculate evening wear of black pants and black overcoat with a light blue tie. He was disturbed by his wife's sudden confidence in Erik…and he had no one to blame for it but himself. He had encouraged her to give the masked man the benefit of the doubt but that had been an utter mistake.

Suddenly, the door opened to the empty cabin and Erik entered in all of his glory—pinstripe tuxedo and a long cloak with a fedora to cover his masked face. His gloved hands reached up and removed the hat and his gold eyes stared intently at the Willows as he tried to think of how to tell them.

"Christine saw me last night."

Both Serene and Spencer's brows furrowed and eyes widened. Serene rushed to the masked man who almost stepped back out of habit. Grabbing his gloved hands, she peered into his black mask, overcome with emotion while Spencer crossed his arms over his chest and stared at Erik with suspicion.

"What did she do? Did she remember you?! What are you planning now?"

Looking at Spencer then back at Serene, Erik smiled a ghost grin before answering, "She looked shocked to see a masked man in her room, but I do not believe she remembered me…Yet, somewhere in her subconscious, she remembers because my name came out of her lips. I fear this has put a crinkle in my plans, so I had to modify them…"

"What is the plan now?"

"It is time that I met Christine…"

Spencer's eyes darkened and he uncrossed his arms at this startling confession. That was absolutely absurd. The girl was hardly stable to learn that they all had deceived her much less that the masked man that had caused so much grief for so many had just spontaneously entered her life…She had no clue…

"Do you really think it wise to bombard Christine with possibly…detrimental…news. She is hardly ready to hear such revelations."

Erik's gold eyes flared with annoyance towards the pianist as Serene looked at her husband inquisitively. Lifting a gloved hand up in the air, he gestured as he spoke with much emotion, "She will never be ready to hear such things, but it is time that she was told the truth…I love her, and I would _never_ hurt her…"

"What if she _does_ remember the premiere night of _DON JUAN_? What if she screams at you? What if she yells degrading and heart-breaking remarks? What if she wants you gone? Will you accept this?"

Erik's gold eyes dimmed as the irritation lessened and became comprehension. Lowering his hand, he looked at Spencer, and realized that the man was right. What would _he_ do if Christine denies him again? It would destroy him all over…

"I must be willing to take that risk, Willows. She cannot live in this lie that Antoinette has woven. It just has to be done."

"And to hell with the consequences, right? Erik, you are truly foolish if you do meet her now…"

Before anything else could be said, the masked man was already out of the cabin and briskly walking, gliding, to Christine. Closing his eyes, Spencer felt Serene enter his embrace and lay her head on his chest. Sighing, he whispered to his wife, "I only see this ending in disaster…"

"Spencer, no one can predict the future…What Erik decides to do about his relationship with Christine is his alone. We cannot prevent him from doing anything he wants; that is a lost cause. We can only pray that things do not escalate horrendously."

_--Madame Giry's Home--_

Nadir wanted to throttle that insolent Captain as he continued questioning Darius, who looked very much like a casualty of war. To say that he was shocked to open the door and find his manservant in such a condition would have been an understatement. He was absolutely stunned! The story of how he had entered such a state was an even more astounding one, too. They all sat in Madame Giry's living area while Darius recounted his time with Erik. Madame Giry was secretly worried but her stony demeanor revealed none of her anxieties as she sat in her chair next to Nadir. Raoul and the Captain stood and were questioning Darius who remained tight lipped about the ordeal when all of the sudden, he stared at Nadir.

The Persian man leaned forward in his chair and folded his hands, anticipating what his servant was doing. Then Darius began speaking fluently in Arabic much to the Captain's chagrin. All three people looked inquisitively as the boy passionately spoke to his master with a loud voice and incessant gesturing.

"Madame Willows is alive, Master. I snuck on the train when the two were heading to Madrid, and I tried to get her away from the masked man whilst they slept. We made it to the caboose when Desslar came out of nowhere. He and I fought, and I was able to fend him off with Madame Willows. She hit him with something, and he fell on the floor unconscious. I grabbed her hand and we rushed to the top of the train where I told her to grab the overhanging. Unfortunately, the masked man managed to catch up to us. We continued to fight…It was hard to see…Rain pounded everywhere…It was so cold…My eyes stung and footing barely took hold on the rooftop…"

The Captain crossed to stand between the two Arabs, looking between them repeatedly asking, "What? What is this boy saying, Khan? What is he telling you?"

Raoul and Antoinette glanced at each other apprehensively, somehow sensing the story was not a good one.

Nadir encouraged the young boy to continue when he paused as the Captain exclaimed, "Speak to me, boy! Speak now!"

"Darius, ignore this pompous idiot; talk to me. Tell me what happened."

"Master, I almost killed him…I had the opportunity to do so, but Serene…she saved him at the last moment…"

"What? How did this happen?"

Before Darius could reply, the Captain whose patience was long gone took the Persian by the shoulders and shook him. "Tell your servant to _not _speak in his native tongue, Persian!"

Nadir's servant shot to his feet with a cry of protest and lunged towards the back of the Captain but was deterred when Raoul held him back. Antoinette pressed a hand over her thundering heartbeat at the altercation, unsure what to do. Nadir evenly met the stony glare of Armand before forcefully removing the Captain's hands from his shoulders. Standing to his full height, the Persian held a hand up to still the struggling servant in Raoul's grip, and then he met the Captain's eyes with determination.

"This is my manservant. Should he desire to speak to _me_, he will. If he desires to tell _you_ anything, then he will. You are not going to bully me or my boy! Now sit down and shut your mouth at once! I will translate what he says to you when he is finished speaking."

Fire erupted in the policeman's eyes as his fists clenched in fury. When he spoke, his voice was nearly hissing like a snake, "How do I know you will speak the truth of what the boy says? After all, you have helped the masked fiend before. How do _I_ know you will tell me what he _truly_ says?"

Crossing his arms over his chest, Nadir stared at the Captain for a brief moment before holding his hands up, "I will speak you the truth of what Darius tells me…because Erik may be a danger to himself and others. I wish to find him as well. We all have to work together. I, as well as Darius and Comte de Chagny, will accompany you to trail Desslar."

Shaking his head, Armand defiantly retorted, "Absolutely not! I will not allow _civilians_ to jeopardize my case!"

Raoul spoke, his voice firm and resilient amongst the hostile environment, "You will accept Nadir's request otherwise, I will make sure you will lose your job and funding for your unit."

Rolling his eyes, the Captain sighed heavily before nodding curtly to the terms. All three men sat down as Darius continued to recant the story to his master while Raoul began to worry that the masked man would elude them once more.

After Darius had told the entire story, Nadir was left stunned. Serene Willows was alive! She actually helped both Erik and Darius from killing each other. Although he was quite sure that Erik would not kill a woman, there was that minuscule grain of doubt. Darius had fallen from the train into a muddy ditch filled with water. Yet, he survived…He was able to make his way to a local village where a kind woman gave him medical care and food until he could be on his own again the next day. Then, he traveled to Madrid where he caught a glimpse of Christine, Spencer, Serene, and Erik himself.

Panic gripped the Persian as he realized that Erik now knows Christine is alive and quite possibly has no known memory of him. Pressing a hand to his forehead, he groaned and glanced at Antoinette. She looked at him with her dark inquisitive eyes. Grasping her hand, his eyes spoke, 'I love you…' before he told her simply.

"Erik knows about her…Antoinette…He knows…"

Her eyes widened as the two men looked on, both confused by the scene. Closing her eyes, two silver tears trailed down her cheeks. Pressing his brown thumbs on her porcelain cheeks to wipe the tears off, he whispered in her ear, no longer caring if the people in the room knew about their love.

"You must tell them now, my sweet. You must tell Raoul about her."

Looking at him, she tearfully nodded. Pressing a chaste kiss on his forehead, she the stood and went over to Raoul who was sitting but now stood out of respect. Embracing him, Antoinette felt her heart break as she now understood her lie had cost everyone more than she imagined.

"I am so sorry, Raoul. I lied to you…"

His blue eyes looked at her, questioningly. Smiling, he tried to alleviate her sudden guilt.

"Madame Giry, you have been nothing but kind and helpful to me. Surely you must be exaggerating…"

Wasting no time, she blurted out, "Christine is alive…"

Stumbling back in shock, he pressed a hand to his heart and stuttered, "What? What do you—How?"

"I lied to you, to everyone. You blamed Erik for the train accident, but that was not what happened. While on the train, Christine told me she was heart sick and torn between her love for you and love for Erik. The train crash was purely coincidental. Her head was hit by some object when the train collided with the bridge. It was rainy and chaotic. People were injured and dying and it took all of my strength to get us both out. I managed to get us both to a hospital…"

Raoul groaned and covered his eyes as his knees began to quiver from the magnitude of this revelation.

"She had no memory of her past. She had amnesia, and I thought this was the best thing for everyone. Erik was in the asylum and you had a bright future…She was torn between you two, and I thought that you could not bear any more heartache…"

His blue eyes were filled with tears that would not fall as his voice cracked with emotion while Nadir, Armand, and Darius looked on in pity and astonishment.

"You lied to me for three years! Three years! I trusted you, Madame Giry…How could you do this to me…Christine? I loved her so…"

"I know, Monsieur. I know but she would not have remembered you, and that would have hurt you more than you are hurting now."

"You don't know that! She could have remembered me! Now the masked man will surely take advantage of her…He will take her away and I will never see my love again!"

He fell to his knees and openly moaned with pain, and when Antoinette tried to rest a comforting hand on his shoulder, he recoiled immediately.

Pressing a hand under his chin, Captain Armand's only thought was, 'This will definitely complicate things, but at least I know the masked man's weakness.'

_--The Train--_

Erik told her everything except for the premiere night of _DON JUAN_. After all, he wished to spare her more pain than was necessary. She sat in silence, eyes wide as she tried to process this information but without a memory, it was difficult.

"No, this cannot be! You are lying to me! My mother would never do that to me!"

Erik sighed and spoke again, "I know you wish to believe that, Christine. She did not want you to be torn between Raoul and me, so she thought the best thing to do was to lie to you. She was your adoptive mother. You and her daughter, Megan, are best friends. She will be married soon."

"No, my mom had no other children…"

Slamming his fist into the arm of the settee, he cried out, "Christine, listen to me! I am telling you the truth! I am the pitiful deformed masked monster that loves you…the one you rejected…the one whose heart you broke! Yet, I am here to help you because I am a love-sick dog who would die for you!"

Shaking her head, Christine vehemently denied his claims which broke Erik's heart even more than the last time she rejected him.

Spencer was not happy about Erik's selfishness, and he was going to tell him so. Yet when he arrived at the specific cabin with Serene, he realized that it was too late. He and Christine were sitting across each other on the two small settees. Tears were already present on the woman's face.

She looked at the Willows and rushed to them as Erik closed his eyes beneath his mask. This was not what he intended.

"Spencer…Serene, tell me this is not so! Tell me that you both did not lie to me about knowing me and my past!"

Spencer circumvented the woman and when Erik stood, he shoved him backwards. The masked man nearly fell on his bottom, but he regained his footing and stared at the man, murder on his mind.

"You selfish son of a bitch! You did not think of how she might have felt before you just unload such pain on her! You deserve everything that happened to you!"

Serene and Christine looked on in horror as the men stood face to face, the battle beginning. Erik dusted off his overcoat and gold eyes glared at the pianist and approached with deadly intent on his mind. He spoke with calm malice.

"Tell me, Willows. Why are you so invested in the woman that I love? Have you developed feelings for her as well? Am I the selfish one or are you?"

"Stop being asinine, Desslar! You know damn well that I love my _wife_! Did you even consider what the information would do to Christine? Do you even care? Are you that self…"

Suddenly, there was a sickening crack as Erik's fist implanted itself in Spencer's face. Blood immediately poured out of his nose as both women cried out in shock and anger. Serene rushed to her husband's side as he venomously stared at Erik. The masked man was horrified when he fully comprehended what he had done. Christine stood there, staring at him in terror, her face pallid and lips quivering.

Instantly, he flashed back to the time where she had looked the same after she removed his mask. Suddenly, the rage left his body. The Willows man was right; he truly was selfish. Reaching out to her, his beautiful voice was strained, "Christine, I-I am sorry…p-please…"

"No! Stay away from me you monster!"

She then ran to her little room and slammed the door shut, but her sobs were very much audible through the cabin. Spencer sat back on the settee as Serene held a cloth over his nose to stop or limit the bleeding.

The masked man turned to look down at the Willows. Spencer did not need to say a word; his eyes said it all, 'I told you so…'

Now, he knew that what he was about to do was wrong but he didn't care. All he wanted was to shift the blame, pain, and anger on someone and fortunately for him, that person lay indisposed on the sofa.

His gloved hands shoved Serene to the ground as she cried out in protest when he yanked Spencer off the ground and threw him into the wall of the train. His body fell to the floor with a thud and Erik began to approach his still, fallen form when suddenly Serene stood in front of him.

"Erik, stop this madness! What happened was your own fault!"

Spencer groaned as he regained his senses. His vision faded in and out as he looked up and to his horror saw his wife standing in front of the murderous masked man. Erik could see nothing but red, could hear nothing but the pounding of his head; he snatched the woman's throat and snarled in her face, "You are not going to get in my way again!"

Too focused on her, he failed to see Spencer crawl over to them and with a swing of his leg; he knocked Erik's legs from underneath him. The two tumbled to the ground, but Spencer caught his wife in his arms. Christine, disturbed by the sound, came out to see the masked man rising to his feet with a pistol aimed at Spencer's head.

Cradling his wife in his arms, Spencer stood and stared defiantly into Erik's crazed eyes. He was not backing down, and this both shocked and infuriated the masked man. 'Who is this man to think he can defeat me?'

His finger was on the trigger and when he pressed it, Christine screamed and pushed the Willows out of the fire. In a matter of seconds, Erik cried out in horror as the bullet hit Christine and sent her plummeting back until her body dropped on the floor with a loud thump.

Dropping the gun, he pulled her into his arms and wept. Her still form was warm but Erik's mind was gone. He thought he had killed her, and he sat rocking her back and forth, ignorant of her heartbeat or the blood that trailed down her head. His mind kept repeating, 'I killed her. I killed the woman I love!'

Spencer lifted Serene to his feet and they both were astonished at what had transpired. The gunfire had been masked by the raucousness of the train, so no one had heard what happened in that small cabin. The only evidence was two blood stains in the floor from two separate people.

Erik refused to let them come near him and Christine, but Serene whispered to Spencer that the woman was still breathing. There was no time to lose; they had to get to her if she was going to have the chance to live.

Spencer knew that Serene would be the one to get through to Erik. Kissing her temple, he whispered to her, "Do whatever it takes to get him to let her go, so we can help her."

Her green eyes glanced at him and she nodded, knowing what she had to do. Crouching next to Erik, she removed his mask but was stunned when he didn't budge. He kept rocking Christine, staring blankly ahead. His deformed face was covered with tears as his lips moved voicelessly.

"Erik, I need to look at Christine. Let me see her, please."

He shook his head. Sighing, she looked at Spencer who stood helplessly in front of the door. There was no other way around it; she would have to do it to bring Erik back to reality. Grabbing both sides of his face, she forced him to look in her eyes. His bronze eyes flickered as he was coming back from madness, but it would not be enough.

Spencer's stomach churned with disgust as his wife kissed the masked man. He had to turn away as bile shot up through his throat. He managed to hold it down for the sake of the woman who needed his help.

Erik let go of Christine and returned Serene's kiss as Spencer lifted Christine's unconscious form in his arms and rushed to the room where Serene had placed medical supplies in case of emergency.

Serene pulled away and saw Erik's eyes return to normal. He was back to reality. With a gloved hand he wiped the blood from her face. He shook his head, "What have I done, doctor? I shot the woman I love more than anything. I truly am a monster!"

Shaking her head, Serene whispered, "No, Erik, you are human. You succumbed to your rage."

"I have ruined my chance with her. She will hate me no matter what…I am doomed to the same fate all over again. Why did you kiss me? You hate me…"

"No, Erik, I do not hate you. I feel sorry for you…"

"Pity? That is even worse! I cannot even keep you or your husband as friends; why did I believe I could have Christine as my wife?"

No words would console his grieving heart, but Serene held his head against her chest and stroked his back like a mother would her hurt child. Meanwhile, Spencer was assessing the damage to Christine's head from the bullet and realized the bullet merely grazed her temple. She was going to be fine! Sighing happily, he even let out a laugh of joy. Disinfecting the cut from the bullet graze, he placed a bandage on her wound before placing a blanket over her form. He saw there was a slight bump on her head, but it did not look too suspicious. As he was about to leave, her cry stopped him.

Turning around, he distinctly heard, "Erik, please don't let me go…"

Cocking his head to the right, he returned to his prior spot and gently woke her up. Her blue eyes peered at Spencer. Smiling, she sat up instantly and looked at him in a manner that almost frightened him, but not more than the next thing she spoke.

"I remember everything, Spencer! I remember Erik, Raoul, and you and your wife!"

"What?"

Spencer then surmised that when the bullet had grazed her head, she must have bumped her head pretty hard on the floor. This must have brought her memory back, but what detriment would be a result of this?

Both Erik and Serene stood up as the door opened and both Spencer and Christine emerged. Spencer spoke as Erik's knees gave way and he fell to the floor in astonishment.

"The bullet grazed her temple. She is _very_ lucky to have survived with no permanent injuries…and we have some…news to tell you both."

Erik stood up once more, although his knees were still a little wobbly. Christine looked beautiful, the color had returned to her cheeks and her eyes shined. Her golden hair cascaded down her back as she looked directly at the masked man. Something was different in her gaze.

She then spoke two words that would forever alter Erik's world. "I remember…"

The masked man found no words that would come out of his mouth; he was dumbfounded. How had it happened? She must have hit her head when she fell to the floor and this must have brought back her memory.

Looking down at his feet, he did not know what to say. "I am so sorry, Christine…I know my apology means little at this point. I am so sorry for everything I have done that has hurt innocent people…Mostly; I apologize to you…for hurting you so."

"Oh Erik, we continue on this same course where we hurt each other…Tell me what happened in the past three years that has brought us to this point…"

Spencer held his wife in his arms tightly, whispering how much he loved her in her ear. Christine and Erik looked at them as they kissed deeply, wishing they could share that love with someone.

The married couple quietly left the room to leave the other two to discuss what needed to be said for such a long time. Christine sat down on the settee as Erik chose to remain standing. He recounted his time at the asylum where Dr. Belier had harangued him for three years and allowed Captain Armand to torture him for hours almost daily. Madame Giry had allowed Raoul and the police believe the masked man had done something to her.

At points in his tale, she closed her eyes and pressed a hand to her throat and whispered, "Oh Erik…"

He told her everything, and she was almost overwhelmed. She felt the familiar connection with her former teacher. She felt the same feelings that had left her torn between Raoul and him so long ago. It was as if three years had never transpired for her. She was still engaged to Raoul; she had left Erik to die in the dungeon of a place. Tears welled in her eyes as she fully comprehended what Antoinette had done to protect her from her own heart's indecision. She felt his anger towards her, and she tried to stop him from feeling that.

"Erik, please do not be angry with Madame Giry. She was trying to protect me. I am angry for what she has done, but it is also my fault. If only I had made up my mind to begin with, none of this would have happened."

His eyes lightened up and he uncrossed his arms and held his hands out, "I am no longer angry with her. Too much of my life has been wasted in anger. I just want an opportunity to make up for all the wrong I have done. I want a chance to love you in the manner a husband should love his wife…I want to prove to you that I can act civilized as a man in society. I can be normal."

She smiled as tears fell from her eyes. She stood and embraced him. He held her in his strong arms as if she was a fragile item, and he breathed in her lavender scent while she breathed in his sandalwood scent. It was all too familiar, but neither could let each other go. Against all odds, they had been brought back in each others' lives again. Both would not voice it, but both felt that they would not be complete ever without the other in their lives. The love between them was still present.

"Christine, I love you so much…I never stopped loving you. Please…please give me a chance to try again…"

Looking up at his unmasked face, she was no longer afraid. Despite her feeling as if three years had not gone by, she had changed. She was a woman now…She was no longer a child, and she had to stop acting like one.

Wiping the tears from his deformed cheeks, she watched as he closed his eyes, in ecstasy by her mere touch.

"Of course, Maestro. You are a part of my heart and soul. Let us start over. Let us try again since I have grown up into a woman who is not going to let her heart's indecision rule her life. I want to see where this takes us, Erik. I want to know what a life with you could be like."

Her words affected him so. Never in his life did he feel such happiness…utter joy at the prospect that Christine could be his! After all this time, he had been given a second chance with her. They could have a future together!

Before he could contemplate what he was doing, he brought his lips to hers for their second kiss. This time, they both kissed out of their love for each other. There was no threat, nothing was wrong. She opened her mouth for him, and he gladly plunged his tongue into her mouth, eliciting simultaneous moans from both of them. They deeply kissed each other, exploring every inch of the other's mouth as waves of pleasure coursed through their bodies.

Somehow, Christine's heart soured and she finally realized whom she wanted to be with. She wanted Erik and only Erik. No matter the sins he committed, she wished to be his wife…to have a life with him. He was repentant for the wrongs he perpetrated, and that was all she needed. They could put it all behind them and move on.

Erik pulled away first, surprisingly. Christine brushed a stray lock of his dark hair out of his face before kissing his cheek affectionately. How she loved him. Nothing had changed…Time had passed, yes, but the love the two shared had not changed one bit over that stretch of time.

Christine pulled his head back down to her lips, and the two passionately kissed again. Suddenly, a cough erupted behind them. Both Erik and Christine turned around with chuckles as the Willows smiled broadly at the two. The Willows were pleased that Christine and Erik had found each other, and they were working to have a relationship. It was about time the two found happiness…with each other.

Erik stepped forward to the married couple and he took Serene's hand and kissed her knuckles. "I am sincerely sorry for all the wrong I have done to you. I wish to make it up to you…I wish it not just because of Christine. I sincerely wish it."

He then gave a mock bow before Spencer and shook his hand, "Thank you for knocking some sense into me. Without you two, I may not have Christine with me now. Can we all start anew?"

Spencer looked at his wife then at Erik who was being humble, a rather difficult feat for him. Smiling, he nodded. "Of course, Erik, let's start over. I pray that no more violence will occur. I don't think my face can take anymore beatings."

Erik genuinely laughed with Spencer while Christine was astounded by the beauty of her love's laugh. The Willows left to change their clothes and Erik and Christine kept kissing, both shocked that they could not get enough of each other. Their love was powerful and even Serene and Spencer could feel it.

As the couples ate dinner and had an enjoyable conversation, the former opera singer was plagued with guilt about Raoul. It was not fair to keep him in the dark, always wondering what happened to her. He would forever blame Erik for something that was not his fault. He would still be in Paris, and she would try to find him and tell him the truth.

She knew she would never be at peace unless she met him and told him that she had chosen to be with Erik. While the Willows revealed tales about America, Erik's deformed face lit up as he relived tales of his time with the Russian circus. He showed them a few magic tricks and then the musician men conversed about Russian composers like Rachmaninoff and Tchaikovsky. Erik's face mattered little to the Willows, and Christine was thrilled he had found accepting friends as well as love. He deserved it.

She just didn't know how to tell Erik about her plan to have closure with Raoul. Dr. Willows laughed at some silly joke her husband uttered, but frowned when she saw Christine's distracted face.

She mouthed to Christine, 'What's wrong?'

Christine took Erik's hand and kissed it. He kissed her forehead before smiling and returning to the conversation with Spencer about the Romantic Era of music. He was so happy that he was oblivious to the conflict within Christine's heart.

Looking back at Serene, she mouthed voicelessly back while Erik was enthralled in talking with another musician so freely, 'I need to talk to you now.'

She could confide in Serene. She had helped Erik this whole time, and she needed to tell someone or else she feared she would burst. So she and Serene excused themselves from the table and went to the room for what the men assumed was 'girl talk.'

_--The Train Station-Madrid--_

Nadir was not at all thrilled to be accompanying Captain Armand, but he knew he had to make sure Erik would not be mistreated. There was no telling what he would do when he found out that Christine had no memory.

Raoul had recovered from his shock and now was utterly silent. He had not uttered a word upon leaving Madame Giry's house all the way to the train station. Once they all boarded the train, they all situated themselves in separate quarters of the two cabins.

Captain Armand was writing down his plan to deal with the masked man while Darius and his master drank tea to settle their nerves. Raoul merely stared out the window of the train as it began to pull out of Madrid to Paris.

Silently, he prayed that Christine was safe and away from the masked monster. If not, he would do whatever it took to protect her and keep her from that monster's hypnotic forces. She would not fall under his spell again.

The Persian worried that Erik would harm the Willows, but he knew the masked man would not hurt Christine. Ultimately, Nadir knew the masked man loved her. He would ensure that he looked good in her eyes, and that sentiment may be the only thing keeping the Willows alive. Yet, a deep sense of dreadful foreboding wore down heavily upon his heart and soul. He felt that someone was going to lose his or her life, and he could only pray that he was wrong…However, the last time he felt this way was before Erik blew up the asylum, killing people and kidnapping the doctor.

Raoul ran his fingers over the smooth surface of the pistol in his waistband. He would kill the masked maniac to keep him from hurting the woman he loves. He would do whatever it took to keep Christine with him…He lost her once, and he would _not _lose her again!

Little did he know that it was far too late for him. Christine had made up her mind and she would have to break his heart all over again. By the end of the journey, several of the eight people would meet their doom while some would suffer, and still others remain unscathed. It was only a matter of time before the real adventure began.

**A/N: AW!! FINALLY!! Christine and Erik are together! But for how long? Ha ha…Anyhow, maybe you readers will be inclined to review now that Erik and Christine are together. I know that this may have felt rushed, but there will be a lot of bumps for this couple. Before this is all over, there will be heartache, adventure, action, and of course, romance! Please review! I love you guys that do! Thanks!**

**Next Chapter—Arriving at Paris for some--more E/C moments…Serene and Spencer find some quiet time while Captain Armand creates trouble and lots of fighting ensures b/w him and the other men**

© Copyright 2008


	16. Chapter 16 Erik's Discovery pt 1

_Disclaimer: I absolutely do NOT own, nor do I gain any monetary subsidies, for this fan fiction story. The characters, setting, names belong to the author that created them (Leroux, Kay), BUT the plot is all mine!_

**Author's Note: I would like to thank those who are faithfully sticking with me and this story. I hope those who are reading are enjoying this as well. I know that many lost interest when other characters besides those in POTO entered, but there will be plenty of Erik/Christine/Raoul interaction in the future. In this chapter, there are E/C moments, Captain Armand tries to pit the men against each other, and the Willows are suspicious of Christine's motives. As always R & R!! **

**I sincerely and greatly apologize for the long wait in an update due to life problems, work, and finals (college finals). But I will not get into much detail about it. You all know how life's hectic ways can be. On any note, enjoy!**

"**We are never deceived; we deceive ourselves."**

**Johann Wolfgang von Goethe**

"**I've never known a musician who regretted being one. Whatever deceptions life may have in store for you, music itself is not going to let you down."**

**Virgil Thomson**

"**We must distinguish between speaking to deceive and being silent to be reserved.****"  
****Voltaire**

_**Chapter 16- Erik's Discovery (Part One)  
**_

"You want to do what!" Serene realized her error and lowered her voice when she attempted to comprehend what Christine was requesting her help to do. She whispered, "Are you out of your mind? If Erik finds out…"

"He won't! Not if you help me…Please, Serene…I need to give Raoul the closure he deserves…Erik and I will never have a future if I do not seal the mistakes of the past. I know he trusts you…"

"Hardly. He trusts only in what music and you can bring him: acceptance. He and I are not as close anymore. My husband is also very suspicious of him; he does not trust Erik. And I do not want to upset my husband again."

"He would understand why you are trying to help me! Please, I cannot do this without your help!"

Serene smoothed some wrinkles in her lavender satin dress, and as she looked at the woman across from her, she was overwhelmed. Christine was only trying to do the right thing, and she saw that this plan was the only way to accomplish it. Sighing, Serene nodded.

"I will help you, but I want you to think about this really long and hard: should Erik discover your plan to see Raoul, he will lose his temper and there may be repercussions that we all may have to pay."

Christine's blue eyes regarded her friend before nodding solemnly and her beautiful voice sadly responded, "I know, but it must be done. If I tried to explain it to him now, he would not understand…He would think I was trying to leave him for Raoul again…"

"Perhaps not; perhaps you should try speaking to him first. Maybe if he listens to you and you comfort him and strengthen his trust, he will let you go."

"No. I must do this alone. Thank you for helping me. I promise I will return the favor somehow. You and Spencer have been immensely helpful to me as well as keeping Erik alive and relatively safe."

Before Serene could ask anymore, Christine stood up and left the room as the former sat to reflect what she had just agreed to do. The laughter of the men echoed through the hall and into the cabin. Erik and Spencer entered the living area of the train and sat down in the two arm chairs.

Serene stood and stopped at the threshold, leaning on the frame to watch her husband and the masked man. Her husband's nose was purple and red from Erik's attack, but he seemed in good spirits. She secretly wondered why he appeared not to be upset with the masked man in any way. Christine took a seat next to Erik, she and Serene exchanging a clandestine glance before the doctor sighed and retreated to her husband's side.

Spencer noticed her apprehension but did not want to press the issue in front of Erik. He was still suspicious of the masked man, but he was content in just being amiable to keep the peace for the women's sakes. They had been through enough, yet he intended to decipher what Erik's plan was now that Christine had remembered and chosen to be with him.

Christine held Erik's gloved hand in her own, gazing adoringly at her loved one. She only wanted to make him happy, but Raoul deserved an explanation from her as well…even if it meant his heart would be shattered by the truth. At least that was what she wanted everyone to think…

Leaning her head against her masked man's shoulder, Christine began to feel the effects of the champagne as her eyes drifted shut and sleep overcome her. Dreaming only of her music maestro and his music, a small smile settled on her beautiful face.

The Willows intently watched as Erik easily lifted his love into his arms and carry her to her room. After settling her in for the night, he returned to the settee he previously occupied. Serene tried to swallow the large lump that had begun to develop in her throat because she could not shake off her fear that Erik would discover her plan to help Christine meet her former fiancé. He would be livid…

"I again would like to apologize to you, Monsieur Willows, for my previously intolerable behavior. It was unbecoming of me, and I truly am sorry."

Before she could stop her mouth from opening, Serene haughtily retorted, "No you are not. You are lying!"

Spencer gazed at her utterly shocked while the contented light instantly diminished and was replaced with apathy as the masked man's demeanor darkened as his internal fire blazed. He did not like some insipid person to question his motives…This was why he never apologized because no one ever truly forgives. Lowering his voice, he ensured the two would know they were crossing into dangerous territory.

"I assure you that I am not a liar, Madame. You are acting like a spoiled child trying to goad her sibling into a fight. I will not fall for it."

Ignoring her husband's pleading glance, the doctor was not letting up on the masked man. "Are you not suspicious of Christine? She does not remember you, and then gets a wound on her head…Then she suddenly remembers you, and she is in love with you! That would sound far-fetched to any normal thinking person…"

"Enough! Silence!"

The sound of Erik's fist slamming down on the table caused the Willows' hair to stand on end more so than his angry cries. His gold eyes were flaring like a great fire and the married couple was the moth about to be burned. Spencer looked from his wife who was defiantly staring back at Erik who appeared he was about to throttle her.

"Now Serene, darling, I think it is best to keep our noses out of Monsieur Desslar's and Mademoiselle Daae's business."

Without breaking eye contact with the doctor, Erik mockingly replied, "It is best to listen to your husband's words of wisdom, Serene."

"You cannot do anything to us, Erik, because that would ensure that you lose Christine forever. You are not willing to take that risk. By the way, you are merely upset because on your subconscious level, you know I speak the truth about your fears. You are a brilliant man, so you know I am telling you only reality."

"Your view of reality is warped, Madame. Christine loves me and chose me."

"You are trying to get me to believe she suddenly forgot the fact that you murdered people in cold blood, tortured her childhood friend, pummeled your own friend, almost blew up the Opera House, and lied to her on more than one occasion; and you would have me believe she has forgotten all of those things…That she forgave you? I hardly think so."

Snarling, Erik glared at the doctor as his clenched fists now blocked blood flow to his fingers, "I do not have to convince anyone of my motives except for her. If she has forgiven me, then that is none of your concern. You speak out of only jealousy."

Her eyes widened with astonishment and rage at his outrageous statement. Spencer felt her anger as soon as the words sunk in, and held her hand to alleviate some of the fury but to no avail. She was livid.

"Jealous? How dare you accuse me of such…such…such an asinine thing! What would I have to be jealous about, Erik? Am I to be envious of Christine's naivety and your deceptive mannerisms? Am I to be jealous of you? You are a man capable of only heartache and destruction! I assure you I am not resentful of your and Christine's relationship. My husband and I have a wonderful marriage."

"You are lying to yourself, Madame. Your husband deserves more than a guttered-mouth rat like yourself."

Spencer's heart constricted within his chest as he saw Erik's painful insult hit his wife, deeply affecting her. He would not allow such an attack on his beloved. Pulling his wife into his embrace, he glared at the masked man before his anger exploded in the form of a quiet voice as was his nature to not raise his voice.

"Are you content with yourself, Desslar? Do you enjoy stripping women of any confidence or self-esteem? Only evil people hurt the innocent. Cruel and unrefined people insult women. Do you take pleasure from taking people's lives from the inside out? Or do you prefer torturing and killing them instead? You are a fool to believe that your relationship with Christine will survive! She will see the man you truly are—a selfish, deprave man whose ugliness pales in comparison to the hideousness of your own heart!"

The masked man was about to leap and strangle the pianist with his own bare hands, but he stopped himself. Christine would never forgive him if he hurt either of the Willows. Besides, the man was dutiful and only protecting his wife. It was an admirable and also irritating quality.

Serene managed to swallow the tears that sprung to her eyes from Erik's snide comment, finding strength from her loving husband. She was far from done with the masked man, and she would have her say.

Speaking low and detached, Serene's calm words unsettled the masked man, "Jealousy? You are one to throw stones, Erik. Did not your own jealousy of Viscount Raoul de Chagny start the string of atrocities you committed? Did your jealousy of him not bring about your end?"

The masked man's eyes flashed dangerously as Serene stared defiantly into them, only fueling his fury more. Spencer was helpless; knowing that trying to convince either to stop the arguing would be a waste of energy. They both were too stubborn for their own good.

The masked man clenched his fists, "It would be wise to hold your tongue, minx."

"Raoul is the epitome of what you wish _you_ could be and Christine loved him. Both of the things you wished you were had been given to your hated enemy: love and acceptance; and they both eluded you in the end. You are only a bitter and lonely man who will _never_ find happiness because he only causes pain and destruction in every life he touches!"

Suddenly, Erik lunged and grabbed the throat of the doctor in his gloved skeletal hands. Squeezing, he watched her pupils dilate from lack of oxygen as he slowly depleted her air flow. Spencer cried with utter rage and charged the masked man who was attacking his wife, but Erik violently threw him back as the adrenaline coursed through his ominous shadow of a body.

Christine heard the commotion and immediately left her room to witness the horror of her music maestro strangling her friend.

"Erik!"

In his rage, Erik heard his beloved's cry of horror and instantly his anger subsided to the point he realized what he had done. Dr. Willows fell to the ground as her husband gathered her sputtering form in his arms. His body shook as he seethed with fury at Desslar.

Christine rushed to the Willows' sides and looked at Erik in astonishment and **fear**. Her beautiful voice was strained as she tried to cope with what he had just done. Her former maestro walked backwards with hands out, gold eyes wide with realization until his back touched the brown wall opposite the three people on the floor.

"How could you, Erik! How could you harm anyone…especially a woman! She is _my_ _friend_!"

Serene, who had managed to breathe normally once more, glared at the masked man as she stood up on two trembling legs. Her husband stood next to Christine who watched as the doctor walked in between Erik and the other two people. When she spoke, her voice was calm but she obviously was angry.

"I'll tell you why, Christine. He did not like what I had to say about his insecurities…"

Spencer took his wife into his arms and stared at the young woman and masked man before somberly stating, "My wife and I will be retiring now. Thank you Christine for your concern, but do not expect us to be civil towards you, Erik. You have officially lost our camaraderie."

The masked man was still attempting to come to terms with his actions when he rushed past Christine towards Serene who broke from her husband's embrace. He bowed his head and removed his mask so she could see his sincerity. He would apologize but only once.

"Serene…Serene please look at me." His melodious voice caressed her senses and took down her guard. She tried to fight against his aura but she was losing control. Her husband pulled her away from the masked man until her back pressed against his chest. Whispering in her ear, "Serene, I love you so much. Listen to me: do not fall for his manipulations again. Remember everything he has put you through."

Erik snarled at Spencer, "I merely wish to apologize for my inexcusable behavior!"

Two men engaged in a verbal sparring as Christine and Serene both glanced at each other with knowing looks. Christine had the only power to stop this argument and she stepped between the two men who were ready to throttle each other. Erik immediately became silent as she looked at him with her blue eyes.

"Erik, you have got to stop losing your temper all the time. Serene and Spencer are my friends, and while you may not like them, you will have to accept them because I like them. Please stop the violent behavior; it does not help you or anyone else for that matter."

Those gold eyes flickered as they bore into hers, searching them for the truth and her feelings. Sighing, the masked man flexed his fingers as he acquiesced to his love's wishes. He did not want to do something stupid and lose her all over again.

"As you wish, my dove, I will try to control myself. It has never been…easy for me…to act in a civilized manner as men of the light do. Yet, I would gladly do anything if it makes you happy."

"Good. I am glad to hear it, Erik. You are capable of being a refined man should you wish it. I need a few minutes to talk to the Willows and then you and I will spend some alone time together. Is this fine with you?"

Embracing her, he breathed warm air atop her head as he whispered, "Of course it is fine with me. They, like you said, are your friends."

He then turned on his heel and headed back to the rear of the cabin as Spencer followed closely behind leaving the two women in the room. Serene was beginning to feel something was amiss with the former opera singer even though she had just met her just a short time ago. Perhaps she was making a very large mountain out of a molehill. Still, a nagging feeling was gnawing away in her stomach that some detail in Christine's behavior was not exactly forthcoming.

Whispering, Christine's blue eyes widened as she expressively and urgently spoke, trying to avert attention from the men.

"Serene, he really is trying to change…I know firsthand how bad he can become when he loses his temper."

The doctor looked at the singer with her long blonde curls and her unchanged blue eyes as she tried to decipher the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Christine went over her plan to sneak out and visit Raoul in order to say goodbye.

"When the train arrives to Paris and we go to the hotel near the Opera House, we will get two rooms. We will go to dinner at one of the low-key restaurants and I will feign illness. Spencer will convince Erik to stay with him as you and I 'go back' to the hotel. I have written a note to Erik when he finds out that I am gone. He will be mad, but I will talk to him tonight about his temper. This way, he will not hurt your husband or you. If he starts to lose his mind, I want you to give him the letter and tell him I made you help me say goodbye to Raoul."

Her friend's green eyes glinted with concern at the plan, but she sighed with resignation. Grasping her free hand, Christine looked at Serene with bright eyes and an equally bright smile. The former opera singer was praying fervently in her heart that Serene believed her lies. Soon, she saw the breath leave the latter's body as she acquiesced to her plan.

"I suppose it could work as long as you talk to Erik tonight. That way he does not get suspicious. I will hold on to the letter and give it to him when you have had ample time to make your move. Just be careful."

"Thank you so much, Serene. You have no idea how much you are helping me. Now, I believe I shall go talk to Erik. I pray you and your husband get some well deserved rest, and I will see you in the morning."

"Thanks. I am suddenly very sleepy. I also pray that you and your nocturnal shadow of a man get some rest as well. See you at breakfast."

When Serene had entered her room, Christine let out the breath she had secretly been holding. Putting the letter in one of the folds of her skirt, she traveled to her room, careful to observe the men talking in the corner heatedly. Upon entrance, she sat down on her bed and opened the epistle she had written only moments before the commotion.

She knew that once Erik read this, he would be utterly furious. Yet, she knew that living a lie was not the right choice either. Having endured her dark music maestro's murderous and dangerous antics, Christine did not want to be apart of that life. When she gained her memory back, she remembered and developed those feelings of fright and terror at the mere thought of Erik. He had truly done horrifying things that jeopardized her life as well as other people's lives. While she could not love him as a wife would a husband, she could not hate him either…As much as he _loathed_ it, she pitied him. Looking down at the letter, she read it to herself.

_Erik:_

_Please do not blame the Willows for their part in helping me…I was the one responsible for making them aid me in seeing Raoul. I need to be forthcoming with you about so much, but I knew that coward as I am, I could not bear to see your face as you read the words that I have written. For so long you have been my source of comfort and strength and then I discovered your lies and manipulations…The day that you revealed yourself as a man and not an angel, my feelings changed…but not the way you believe._

_I have lied so much that I barely recognize myself and have severely disappointed myself as well as my father for all of the wrong and heartache my actions caused. I am sorry, Erik. I am so sorry for ever hurting you and the pain you inevitably will feel after reading this. Serene and you share a connection and I am not sure what that connection is…Spencer hates you and I think it is because he senses that bond between you and his wife. She so readily was willing to accept you…face and all. She did the one thing I could not…still cannot…I am ready for redemption, Erik…Before I can even hope to move on, I need to come clean about so many things in regards to you._

_The night of __**Don Juan **__is permanently etched in my head and I cannot forget the pain and devastation both of us are responsible for. Nadir warned me about my actions having a negative affect on you and I refused to listen. I was selfish and naïve about so many things…Now, I see so clearly and am able to reflect many aspects of our past together. Even after you exposed yourself as a man and not an angel, I was still in love with you…Even when Raoul entered the picture, I was not deterred in my feelings for you…I wanted to be yours forever…However, that love and devotion changed when your dark side—the Phantom—took over. Your extreme bouts of jealous rage and violence caused my love to turn into fear. It was not the other way around as you had claimed: fear can turn to love…Rather; it was love that turned into fear._

_Raoul and I were able to rekindle that childhood love and it grew into a profound love; yet, I was still torn between you and him. Instead of sparing both of you so much confusion and heartache, I led both of you on into my world of indecisiveness…I am still drawn to you and probably always will be…but that connection only leads me to devastation and you to instability. I hope this makes sense, for it hardly seems logical to me as I write it…I love you Erik…and while it may not make sense now, perhaps in time it will. I love you so much, but I cannot be with you because of my fear…You have tried to kill your own friends—Spencer and Serene—on more than one occasion…They, who have helped you so much, are a few of this world that you can find acceptance…Please try to accept them in return._

_You pushed them away time and time again just like you did me that night. After I unmasked you on the stage in the night of __**Don Juan**__, I knew I hurt you but you did not do anything…You grabbed me and we went through the trapdoor…_

_To this day I still do not understand why you did what you did that night…In the fourth cellar you gave me a key and a letter. You told me the key was for a chest that you had placed in my stepmother's home. You asked me to read that letter when I opened that chest. When I tried to stay, you screamed at me to leave you…You told me that you loved me enough to let me go and that you did not want me to suffer anymore…It was then that I was sure of my feelings…I kissed you…I kissed you that night and never shall I regret it. It truly was a kiss of love and I wanted to stay with you. You finally revealed yourself as a man to me. Not the Phantom, not a jealous murderer…a man who loved me and put my needs ahead of your own happiness._

_Just as I was about to stay, Raoul appeared and you suddenly changed…You looked at me and whispered, "Christine, I will love you and I know that you will see one day why I did it…"_

_I never knew what you meant by that statement and still do not know what that meant even now. When I opened the chest, I found enough money that would keep me secure and financially sound for years as well as my father's violin which you had fixed and refurnished. Then I found a picture of a man and my father. That man was you…You never told me how or even that you knew my father…It appeared that you lied to me once more…_

_On any note, your letter was the most confusing of all…I still do not understand why you said the things you said or did the atrocious things afterward…I was ready to come back to you, but then I read that you had set the Opera House on fire and killed Piangi and Raoul's brother. I realized then that I could not be with you after all of that. If I was with you, then that would mean I accepted those acts of violence and rage; I cannot do that._

_While I may love you, Erik, and I know how much you love me; I am asking that you let me go as I must let you go. Please, my love, I know that deep down you know that we cannot be together because of what happens when we are…Too many people get hurt and pay the price of our love and I cannot live and breathe knowing how many have suffered already because of our love…Raoul, Nadir, Madame Giry, Meg, Philippe, and now the Willows. Please…please let me go. I will go to Raoul and we will be married. I know that hurts you, but know this: Raoul has my heart but you will always have part of my heart and soul. I love you, Erik. I just cannot be selfish and love you, knowing the dangers to my loved ones…_

_Please do not come after me. If you love me, then you will do as I ask…Do not come after me. Do not try to change my mind and please do not hurt another soul! You will always be with me in my heart and mind but we cannot be with each other, and that is the way it must remain._

_Goodbye my sweet and loving Erik…_

_Yours always,_

_Christine_

Setting the letter in the drawer, she curled on the bed and let her tears fall. The problem was not her loving Erik; it was the consequences of loving him. She loved Raoul…He was kind and gentle and all a woman could want in a husband…He was just not _who _she wanted as a husband, yet she knew that Raoul deserved to be happy and he was happy with her. After all she was responsible for all the heartache he had to endure because of Erik. Without her, Erik would never have been an issue for her beloved childhood friend.

Pulling the blanket over her shoulder, she closed her eyes and let sleep overtake her. Her sleep was troubled due to haunted memories and feelings of confusion and indecision. Soon she would betray Erik, and this time the betrayal would most likely be the end of him.

_--Erik and Spencer face off outside the cabin—_

"Do not lay your hand on my wife ever again, Desslar. I know how my wife can be stubborn and deliberately push one's buttons, but she does it in order to help you. That's why she came to your case in the first place: in order to help you and Christine. You are a very selfish man, and perhaps that is because of your upbringing but it is not excuse for your violent actions. I do want so much as your voice to be raised in the direction of my wife or you will not like what I do."

The masked man stood to his full menacing height and glared at the pianist. Folding his black enclosed arms across his broad chest, he softly but threateningly retorted, "Don't you _ever_ threaten me boy! I apologized for my actions: I never apologize. Consider yourself lucky that you and your wife have survived thus far. She needs to learn when to hold her tongue and know her place. She presumes too much about me, and often she is in the wrong. You are a good man. I respect you for many reasons, but do not think that you and your wife can manipulate me in any way."

The pianist's hazel eyes flared to a deep autumn burnt orange as his cheeks reddened with hot blood.

"How dare you accuse my wife and me of manipulating you? You, the master of manipulations—Opera Ghost, Angel of Music, Phantom of the Opera!! All of those guises were used in the exploitation of others and you have the gall to stand there and accuse my wife and I of such atrociousness! You, sir, are unbelievable!"

Before the masked man could respond, he saw the man's face suddenly shift from anger to placidness.

"Erik, my wife and I have gone over and beyond to help you and Christine. I once thought you deserved to have a chance at a normal life filled with love, happiness, and acceptance. However, the more we all go through these trials, the more I am becoming convinced that Christine was right in the first place. You thrive off people's fear of you. You _want_ people to be afraid of you because that means they cannot get close to or maintain a relationship with you. You are so afraid of being alone that you are inevitably creating your worst fear. Instead of fighting all of us, think about all that you have. You have Christine's love and acceptance finally. You _have_ the woman you love, yet you are not focused on her. You are more focused on being right and ensuring my wife knows that she is wrong about you."

"You know nothing, Willows."

"Ah but I do. You are being selfish, Desslar. For once, you have found your soul mate—the woman you are meant to be with—and you waste that gift every time you fight with me or my wife…every time you commit a violent act…every time you fail to notice the needs of your loved one. Not every one in this world is fortunate enough to find that one person who is his or her soul mate. You of all should know that. Yet, you have the opportunity to be with that person that is your other half and you are wasting it! Stop fighting my wife. Stop fighting me. We are trying to do what's right for _everyone_ involved."

The masked man was silent. His gold eyes flickered as he digested every word the younger musician had spoken. He was right about everything. Erik turned his back to the man and contemplated how wrong he had been.

How could he have lost his focus? Christine needed him just as badly as he needed her, but he had become too attentive to what Serene and her husband thought. It did not matter. The only thing that mattered was that Christine loved him and he loved her. They would have a beautiful future together. He would be the husband she rightly deserved: the husband that would walk with her in the park on Sundays and she the living wife he so longed for.

Spencer then left the masked man to his thoughts as he went back to his beloved wife. Erik stood for a moment before retreating to Christine who had fallen asleep by the time he entered the room. Turning out the light from the lantern, he slipped in next to her. Holding her in his arms, his heart burst with utter joy when she sighed contentedly in his arms. Soon he followed her into the land of slumber.

As much as the former Phantom wished for this bright future, there was a dark storm of malevolence approaching him that would threaten the very foundation where all that he had fought and worked for could be lost.

_--Second train--_

Captain Agnew was beyond annoyed. How did he get stuck with two hot-heads and an infidel? He did not need to babysit the Comte nor did he need the nosiness of that Persian. None of them he trusted. Sitting back, he flexed his large olive-tanned hand into a tight fist as he thought of Erik Desslar. That blasted criminal boiled the policeman's blood like no other. How he hated the masked man…for so many reasons.

Armand was not accustomed to having a dog much less partners, especially on _his_ assignments or missions. It was not acceptable to him to have to endure the incompetency of other insipid idiots!

The Captain believed he alone could handle Erik Desslar. Besides, his gun was firmly held in his waistband where the holster hung. Was he not the one who knew the masked lunatic was alive after the asylum fire? Snorting with indignation, the police head looked around him at the faces of his mission's intruders. His badge gleamed against the blue of his uniform. He would have been better off if he had been alone. Did they think him stupid? Did they think he did not notice how the Comte and boy follow their leader who was the Persian?

Unfortunately, Armand began to feel like the odd one out and he knew the only way to maintain control was to cause a rift with the others. While smirking, the Captain, whose ego far exceeded even the most proud like Julius Caesar, stood and made his way to the two followers who were playing chess to pass the time.

The Persian had gone to retrieve food and tea for their breakfast and so Armand was alone with Raoul and Darius. Foolish Persian! They were the lambs ignorant of the wolf dressed as a sheep among them.

Sitting the chair down next to the table, Agnew sat as he peered at the two men with beady eyes that surely must have been like Cassius's as he plotted Caesar's demise. Raoul, who dressed in a simple gray business suit while Darius dressed in black slacks and white shirt, made a move and won the game.

Agnew's piercing blue eyes glanced from the boy to the Comte as his plan slowly unfolded by his spoken words. The Captain had one of those voices that people who thought they had superiority in power and intellect often had. It was deep yet held a slight nasal quality like one who pretended to be of wealth and refinement.

"Ah, I see that you two are getting along quite well. It surprises me that both of you are so loyal to the Persian."

Darius's eyes flashed with suspicion and offense much to the chagrin of Agnew. How the officer hated the impudence of adolescent youth. Sighing he spoke again to the men who still remained silent, forfeiting the game they were playing and unknowingly begin playing another one—Agnew's mental game.

"It is ironic to me that you, Comte de Chagny would be such a loyal comrade to a man who is a good friend of Desslar…"

Darius remained silent as the Captain spoke the same words and doubts that filled his own head. What Agnew surmised was the very insecurity that would unravel the men's faith and turn them against each other. Perfect.

"Monsieur Khan is the reason I was able to help save my fiancée from that monster's hands."

"Ah, I see he has manipulated you so well."

Shock ran through the handsome Comte's face as Darius's countenance darkened with barely suppressed hostility.

"I beg to disagree, Captain. My master does not manipulate…"

"And you! Why would your master order you to keep an eye on Desslar as he traveled to the Giry home? It was as if he anticipated the masked man's escape…as if he _knew_ it was going to happen…He sent you to follow and perhaps attempt to kill that criminal, knowing you'd most likely die in the process….You mean nothing to him! You are nothing but collateral damage. Both of you are. Have you wondered, Comte, why he never told you who he was _before_ the chandelier fell? Is it not convenient that Khan waited until Erik committed heinous acts of violence before he even told you that he was acquainted with the masked man? Was he not there months prior to the fall of the chandelier, keeping valuable information to the identity of the Opera Ghost? He has duped you into believing he is an honorable man when he is no better than Erik himself!"

Darius whose face contorted with rage threw a knight at the officer and furiously pointed a finger in the officer's face as he exclaimed, "Don't you dare speak of my master in that way! He is an honorable man which you hardly can be described in the same manner! I know him better than you and your nefariousness!"

Armand simply smiled that fox grin of his as the boy fell into his trap like a mouse. His words were creating doubt in both of the men's heads.

"You are merely upset and mad because on some level of your conscience, you know I speak the truth. Why don't you look closer at the situation? You are not being very objective, boy. You are letting your emotions make your decisions. Comte, you seem to know and comprehend what I am saying."

The Comte momentarily turned his head away to look outside, observing the moving scenery in contemplation. He had wondered those same sentiments the Captain had uttered.

Hearing them out loud was an eye-opener for the young Comte. As much as he liked the Persian, Raoul was suspicious. Perhaps he had been wrong about the man all along. How well does one _really_ know another person?

'_**Only as much as that person wants you to know…' **_His mind responded to the haunting question. Maybe Nadir was looking out for his own interests as well as Erik's. Perhaps he never was helping the Comte retrieve the woman he loved so.

Raoul wanted to bury his head in his hands and pretend that none of the current problems plagued him, but he knew that he had to face his dilemmas head on. His brother and father-figure, Philippe, would want that.

As Armand returned to his former place and read the Parisian newspaper that detailed the continued search for the masked fiend, he could not help but wonder what Erik's next move would be.

Whatever Desslar was conjuring up, Agnew was positive that Christine was at the center of any plan the masked man made. If all went according to the officer's plan, he would have the Comte on his side.

The train trudged along, making the only noise in the cabin as Nadir Khan entered the room with some food and tea. He had no idea that such a vile man was in his midst and the man threatened to up heave any one's life if it accomplished his needs. Things were about to get much worse for all involved…as the storm approached.

**Author's Note: This chapter was long so I had to break it into two parts. It works better since the second part is when Erik, the Willows, and Christine arrive in Paris. Captain Agnew is such a fun villain and hopefully you hate/love him. He will be creating much trouble for Erik and Christine. Christine does love Erik…but you will find out why she **_**really**_** needed to leave Erik…for now. I am one of those who loves angst-y love!**

**As always, please review. Thank-you!**

**RainsP.**

© Copyright 2008


	17. Chapter 17 Erik's Discovery pt 2

_Disclaimer: I absolutely do NOT own, nor do I gain any monetary subsidies, for this fan fiction story. The characters, setting, names belong to the author that created them (Leroux, Kay), BUT the plot is all mine!_

**Author's Note: Now things are about to escalate. Hopefully, you all have not gotten bored but if you have, this chapter will get the adrenaline going! I listened to Bourne Ultimatum CD while writing this. I love Bourne!! Also there are some themes from ****The Dark Knight ****in remembrance of the great Heath Ledger (RIP). I also loved that movie.**

**In this chapter: Erik returns to his former ways, Serene and Spencer have a falling out, Madame Giry has been sneaky and her secret is revealed. Christine and Meg meet again and although the reunion is joyous, there is cause to be concerned. Raoul, Nadir, Captain Agnew, and Darius arrive in Paris and someone dies.**

"_**It is cruel, you know, that music should be so beautiful. It has the beauty of loneliness and of pain: of strength and freedom. The beauty of disappointment and never-satisfied love. The cruel beauty of nature and everlasting beauty of monotony."**_

**Benjamin Britten**

"_**When love is not madness, it is not love**__**."  
**_**Pedro Calderon de la Barca**

"_**Our lives improve only when we take chances - and the first and most difficult risk we can take is to be honest with ourselves."**_

**Walter Anderson**

"_**Love is not blind - it sees more, not less. But because it sees more, it is willing to see less."**_

**Rabbi Julius Gordon**

_**Chapter Seventeen- Erik's Discovery Part Two**_

When Erik entered the room he shared with Christine, he was not surprised to find her asleep in the small bed. All of the drama had drained him of his own energy and he was genuinely tired—a rare occasion. Sighing heavily, he sat on the empty side of the bed as it creaked beneath the added weight while he removed his boots, jacket, and cravat. After he was through, his mind began to doubt whether he should take the chair or dare sleep next to Christine, but all doubts ceased when he lay down to discover that Christine reached out to pull him close to her sleeping form.

Ecstasy coursed through his veins until his eyes closed and body succumbed to a peaceful slumber. Meanwhile, Christine's letter of goodbye lay not far from the two of them, which would result in catastrophic consequences for all involved.

Next door, Serene and Spencer were in bed but not asleep; they were very much wide awake, still unable to handle the chaos that had consumed their lives at the current moment. Serene turned on her side to face her husband. His hazel eyes gleamed in the small candlelight while the trauma and pandemonium had begun to display on his face. His normally tan face had paled and dark bags had developed underneath his eyes while fine stubble of a beard was now present. Stroking his face, he turned on his side to face her. Silently, she shivered under his scrutinizing gaze.

"I detest him."

Serene sat up and looked at her husband who did not move as he uttered that unequivocally candid statement. She did not need to ask of whom he spoke, for _he_ had been on her mind as well. Did she feel the same about the masked man? No…but she could _never_ tell her husband so especially when he was so fragile right now.

"Why do you detest him so?"

He rose and sat on the edge of the bed, his back turned away from her. As he sighed, she watched his shoulders rise and fall. He was irritated, and she knew he had every right to be so; yet, there was a darkness within him that was growing and that frightened her to no end. Spencer was slowly unraveling at the seams, and she had to find out why.

"I am not your patient, Serene. Do not attempt to psychoanalyze me right now. I speak frankly as your lover and best friend. I know that you and Erik have been hiding something for quite some time now…I want to know…No, I demand to know what it is."

Her lip quivered and she closed her eyes, knowing all too well that this secret could blow her marriage apart…but she had no choice _but_ to tell Spencer.

"I killed a man."

His expression was priceless as his brow furrowed trying to process the confession, but it just didn't make _any_ sense. His loving and caring wife _murdered_ someone? How? Why? Yet, she did not let him think anymore of those wandering thoughts before she plunged into the whole story.

"It was when Erik and I were on the train from Paris to Madrid…It was at night when the masked man had fallen asleep and I slept near the window when I was awakened by someone. He was a small Arab boy…"

Closing his eyes, Spencer knew and the name tumbled out of his breathless body, "Darius…"

Nodding, the tears in his wife's eyes began to flow down her cheeks, glistening in the candlelight but the true sorrow was reflected not in tears but in her eyes. She spoke again, but this time in a hoarse whisper to her astounded husband.

"Yes, I know that Erik told you _his version_ of the story but…he left out some details of the account…the boy had come to rescue me…He and I were in the caboose when Erik caught up with us. He was furious needless to say…I was knocked out of the way by him when he and Darius fought…My mind…My mind was in turmoil. I was disoriented and confused and frightened out of my wits…"

Her breathing was now erratic and Spencer held her hand in his as she continued the story he was not so sure he wanted to hear.

"I g-grabbed a metal pipe and hit Erik in the head as hard as I could…Darius and I made it to the top of the train but it was just storming so badly…You couldn't see anything and he told me to grab the mail carrier once it came into view and just run. Yet, the masked man recovered his senses and he made it to the train's roof with us. The lightning flashed so frequently, things were in slow motion as Darius tried to fight the masked man in order for me to escape. But I hesitated."

Spencer sighed heavily and shook his head, "I don't understand this. I have heard it all before…"

"No…No you haven't. The small Arabian boy gained the upper hand and aimed his pistol straight at Erik who was incapacitated from the boy kicking him and hitting him in his injured shoulder. I had the opportunity to escape with my life, and Darius would have survived too…but…"

Suddenly, her husband realized what she was trying to say and finished her sentence, "But you stayed behind…to save the man who had started the entire chaotic situation in the first place…"

Burying her head in her hands, she moaned, "I became a murderer of an innocent and courageous boy to ensure a murderer lived. What kind of person am I?"

"One whose heart is open to all…Serene, what happened is not your fault…"

"I played a part in it, Spencer."

"Why can't you place the blame on the man responsible? Why do you always defend this masked maniac?! Don't tell me you have developed feelings for him?!"

She glared at him and turned away from her husband in order to hide her enraged countenance at his outrageous statement. Taking a deep breath, she reigned in her anger before facing his red face. He, too, was outraged by the whole situation.

"I do not have feelings for him…"

"You do not convince me."

"I swear on our marriage that I do not love Erik!"

"Serene, do you not hear the hypocrisy in that statement and your actions? The man kidnaps you, physically assaults you, lies to you, kills people, and commits other atrocious acts; yet, you remain committed to helping him. Why? The only reason I can think of is because you have feelings for him. Or you love him."

"Fine! Fine, Spencer, if you don't believe my word, then just leave!"

He pointedly looked at her, his hazel eyes aflame as he whispered stoically, "Don't force me…"

"I can no more force you to stay than to go. The door is there. If you think I am in love with the masked man, then leave me."

Standing up, her husband walked towards the cabin's door and spoke with his back turned to his devastated wife, "You are a doctor. Your pledge is to help all who are ill. I understand that, but some people cannot be saved, Serene. I know you love me as I love you, but you have fallen under this man's spell…I see the true side of him now, the side I failed to see before…and this side will be the end to our marriage."

"Not if you let him!!"

Turning his sad and tired face towards his wife, he gently said before he walked out the door, "You already _have_ let him."

Spencer strode to the window and stood, watching the shadow encased landscape fly by as the train neared Paris. Sighing, he knew that his life would forever be changed, and he would never return home the man he once was. The games had changed…the moment Erik had violated his life. Well, he would help Christine by keeping his promise and return home to Manhattan _with or without_ Serene. She had to make a choice that would decide their futures and their marriage.

Closing his eyes, he remembered their wedding day. If only they had never come to Paris, none of this chaos would have started. He would be running his theater and she would be a doctor helping the helpless not some masked maniac whose flaws included: murder, mental games, and volatile acts of rage.

'Ah, but such is life,' the voice in his head said. 'We cannot predict where our paths lead us, only we can make the choices that take us from those paths onward.'

As the sun rose, the train neared the station, and Spencer felt an overwhelming sense of dread. Nauseated, he vomited in the latrine as the train docked; he was all too aware of the foreboding feeling that encompassed his entire being. It always revolved around Erik Desslar.

"Why so serious, Willows?"

The masked man grinned as he slapped the man on the back. The four of them exited the train and went to retrieve their luggage. Christine and Serene were particularly silent as they followed behind their lovers respectively. While one's letter made her pocket weigh heavily on her conscience, the other's guilt was heavily burdening her heart.

The opera singer's plan was about to be set in motion within the next forty-eight hours and someone would pay with his or her life.

As they were passing the stations exit to the carriage that carried their luggage, a street performer with a small crowd pointed to the masked man who instantly froze in midstride while the other three stopped, horrified.

"Heh…there's a man! A true one at that too! He wears a mask because the city is so bad to live in, he doesn't want people to know who he is!!"

The crowd was silent and the four continued to walk, albeit a little quicker to the carriage. Once inside, the masked man slammed the door shut as he cursed, "And I was told _my_ _jokes_ were bad, his jokes were damn awful!"

Spencer sat next to his wife but was rigid and the masked man took notice, curious but returned his attention to the woman he loved sitting next to him. She had a sadness twinkling in her eye, and he was not sure where that originated from but he intended to find out later on that day. Too much needed to be done at the moment. He reiterated the plan he and Christine discussed that morning.

"We will go to the inn tonight. I will evaluate the area and see if I am still in the papers…If we are safe, then tomorrow, we shall go to this place where Madame Giry took me once. The owner knows of me…Megan's husband I should say. I know you told me your idea Christine and I agree; you would want to see your best friend."

Everyone smiled as if that was a great arrangement, knowing that Christine had deceived the man she claimed to love into a plan that would break his heart and most likely shatter his newfound sanity.

With that said, the four of them went to the inn to get settled before the opera singer would forever step out on the masked man that had been her mentor for nearly a decade, and Spencer would leave his wife who undoubtedly in his mind would stay to retrieve the rest of the sanity left in Erik Desslar.

_--Parisian Train Station One Day Later--_

Captain Agnew could have kissed the ground of his beloved Paris. He could not have been more ecstatic to get out of that blasted cabin with those infuriatingly dull imbeciles. Desslar was here; the policeman could feel it in his bones.

Nadir, Darius, and the Comte stepped off the train and joined the irritated police captain who did not have the patience or time to deal with such impertinence. Sighing heavily, he adjusted his badge on his coat before turning to the three of them.

As Raoul and Darius discussed the differences and similarities between Persian and French politics, Nadir looked up into the sky and inhaled deeply through his nose. His entire body was tense, and it only got that way when Erik was nearby.

They were close; he knew it. The only problem was that the Persian did not know that the Captain had his own hidden agenda. Although he did not know the concealed plan of Agnew's, Nadir could not shake the feeling of something amiss when he was in the company of the police chief. Something was not right with the man, but the Persian had more pertinent things to worry about, namely his masked friend Erik Desslar and Christine Daae. How he missed Anne! After making sure the Comte would be fine and Desslar located, Nadir planned to check on little Meg and her husband to see that she was in good health and spirits. After all, he knew how much Antoinette loved her little girl.

"Ah, it is good to be back in our great city of Paris! I cannot wait to see what my men have found in regards to this masked man. Let us go to the department first then we shall go back to the asylum where Desslar first escaped."

The two young men glanced apprehensively to the man in the Afghan hat who retorted to the tart police chief, "No. I believe we should first go to the Opera House…"

Two piercing eyes glared with resentment as raging heat flew up into Agnew's face. How dare this foreigner question him?! Gritting his teeth, his jaw muscle twitched as he leveled a challenging attitude to the Persian.

"I agreed to take you all with me, but _I _call the shots. Should you wish to be thrown in jail, I suggest you listen to _my_ orders."

The Comte bristled at the threat and glared at the impudence of this man, "I do not think you would dare arrest me, Agnew. I practically own this city, and it would not be wise to get on my bad side, would you not agree? I know the masked man. He would go to the theater with my fiancée. That I am sure."

Armand clenched his fists and then turned his attention to the Comte, hissing, "Do you honestly believe the masked man would be so _stupid_ as to go to the very place he was caught? My men have staked out the theater and underground cellars since the asylum fire. If he did not return then, I doubt he would now. Besides that theater brings him nothing but bad memories…Why would he go back?"

The adolescent with the men chimed in, "What if he expects you to be thinking like that? What if he is there because he knows it's the one place you are least likely to go?"

The Captain grinned, eerily reminiscent of a fox, "Fine. Then we should split up."

"Oh no, we are not falling for that, Agnew."

Shrugging his uniformed shoulders the officer, merely ignoring the comment from de Chagny as he turned and walked to the carriage where his men were waiting to take the four men to the station. However, Raoul decided he needed to go to his mansion in order to see if there was word about the masked man…One never knows…the masked man could have set fire to the Comte's home as revenge or another act of hatred.

Darius decided to go to the station with Captain Agnew while Nadir determined it was best to watch over Raoul. If Erik was there, Nadir was the only assurance that the rich man had to make sure the Comte did not die at the hands of his enemy.

_--Madrid, Spain--_

Madame Giry sighed heavily, pushing the letter she had been concealing for twenty years in the bottom of her clothes chest. Although she had revealed one of the biggest secrets to Raoul and Nadir, she also was aware of the other secret that could affect everyone's lives. Yet, this secret could prove catastrophic if it ever was discovered, something she was desperate to prevent.

Nearly three decades ago, Antoinette was a happily married woman and living in Iran. While her husband was working one day, she thought it would be great to take a stroll around the city's marketplace, a decision that would forever change her life.

Erik's mother was pregnant with Erik when Madame Giry had met her and befriended her. The two women had grown close to the point that Madeline desired Antoinette to be the godmother to Erik Desslar, a choice Madame Giry readily accepted.

As two close friends, the women spent much time together, shopping and talking while their husbands worked. After Erik had been born, Madeline all but abandoned the boy, whose deformities were very much present. Antoinette tried to see her godson, but her friend refused to let any one see the infant.

For nearly five years, the child was trapped in the house by parents who could not bring themselves out of their own grief to love him. The day Madeline sold the boy to a traveling gypsy camp was the last time the women saw each other. Madame Giry never did get a chance to meet her godson and never forgave Madeline for her cruelty to him. It was not long after that incident that Erik's mother felt extreme guilt and killed herself in the lonely manor that her husband and she shared.

Erik's father grieved extensively for the loss of his son, deformed or not, and his poor wife, but he managed to keep up his masonry work in Persia. One day, he decided to take a stroll through the marketplace because he could not bear to remain in the manor that his wife had taken her life in.

Antoinette had been suffering from depression since her husband had gone away for business that would occupy him in Italy for nearly six months. She was a young woman, not accustomed to having patience, and so this left her inconsolable. Missing his presence more with each passing day, she desired to just forget the pain of his absence. Part of the reason Ferdinand had left was due to the fact that they had met Erik, their godson. The horrid treatment of the deformed boy had left Ferdinand and her bitter and needing an escape. They planned on rescuing the boy when Ferdinand returned from his work with the extra money to ensure their godson's future.

It was during a brief stop at a local shop one particular day that she serendipitously ran into Erik's father, who was observing the local carpenter's handiwork. They briefly exchanged formal greetings before the mason decided he wanted to go home. To this day, Antoinette did not know what drove her to make such a careless and stupid decision, but it would be one that affected her even now.

She and Erik's father traveled to the home Madeline had died in and Erik held imprisoned in to finally talk about the boy he had forfeited nearly six years prior. Suddenly, the conversation drifted from the boy to the two's extreme feelings of loneliness and despair.

It was that night the two shared a passionate one night stand. The two made love both succumbing to the passion in order to forget their woes and despair. By dawn's light, Antoinette fled back to her home with Ferdinand and vomited from her guilt. How could she do that to her soul mate!

Three days later, the newspapers indicated that the local mason's body was found in his bed where he had died from a gunshot wound to the head. Suicide. Thus, the tragedy of the Desslars ended with the death of Erik's parents. Antoinette vowed to never tell Erik because she believed he would place the blame of what happened to his parents on himself. And he was not at fault.

With that choice made, she put the incidents (one night stand, suicides) behind her and waited for three weeks until the return of her husband who was to arrive at the end of the month. However, luck was not with Anne who had begun to come down with what she believed to be the flu. Fearing the worst, she headed to the local doctor who confirmed her worst fears. She was with child.

She had no idea what to tell Ferdinand when he came home. How was he going to take her infidelity? He was a good man. He would not leave her with nothing to rely on, often like the other husbands in the city; he would ensure she would be taken care of but he certainly would divorce her.

Yet, she would never get the chance to tell him, for the day she discovered she was with child was the day her beloved husband had been killed by three muggers and his body dumped on the side of the road.

She had grieved so extensively, the doctor feared she would miscarry, which she almost succeeded in doing. However, logic came to her as she realized that the only person in the world she had was this child growing within her, and she vowed to devote her life to raising this infant and giving it the best chance to a normal and happy life, even at the expense of her own. She would live for her baby.

Not long after she had given birth to little Megan Giry, she met Nadir Khan, a police detective, who was investigating some robberies believed to be the results of the gypsy camp. They worked together to figure out the whereabouts of Erik, whom she desperately wanted to rescue as a homage to her late husband, but the boy had escaped.

It was only by lucky events that she ran into her godson years later. Even more serendipitous was the fact that Nadir and she managed to remain in contact and connect to Erik in the most oddest of circumstances.

She had wrote a letter to Erik when Meg had turned two years old that detailed his parents' guilt over what they put him through as a boy, her one night stand with his father that led to the birth of his half-sister Meg, and finally, her and Nadir's quest to make him part of the family.

Yet, her own guilt consumed her, and she had kept the letter, even after finding Erik and made sure he would be safe and alive at the Paris Opera House. She still kept silent when he terrorized the theater and killed people, fearing he would harm her or Meg if the truth was found out. Now, she worried what the consequences would be if Erik found out that she had denied him the only connection to the family he wanted so badly.

It was what drove her to take that letter out of the chest and set the weathered paper in the fire that cackled in the home's furnace, never to be read by the man whom it was addressed to. As she watched the letter burn, a part of herself seemed to burn with it. She had told so many lies over the years that she barely recognized herself. And even though her intentions were always out of a place of love, they always seemed to ruin the lives of others. The only way for her to somewhat make amends for her wayward actions was to tell the truth, but not to Erik. She would have to tell the truth to her little Meg. She would have to tell Meg that her brother is none other than Erik Desslar, the former Phantom of the Opera.

_--Paris, France--_

After Erik was sure that the city was safe, he and the other three companions went to a local restaurant owned by Theo, Meg's husband, late one night. As the quartet seated themselves in the back table covered by shadows, Christine looked at Serene who merely nodded indiscreetly as she knew that the plan was about to be set into motion.

The four enjoyed a quiet but enjoyable meal as the servers, too tired to care about the people left them alone to catch a nap in the back room. Spencer chewed his food, but the food tasted bland and unappealing because he was so angry with the man sitting across from him and his wife sitting next to him. She had tried to hold his hand but he pulled his away, and as angry as it made him, his heart ached at her hurt expression. Yet, he knew he had to put his foot down; he was not a doormat any longer.

Suddenly, the Willows stopped chewing and stated at Christine, who stood up abruptly, saying quietly, "I am sincerely sorry, but it appears I am feeling quite faint at the moment."

Erik put down his napkin, and looked at the woman he loved, immediately concerned as his melodic voice responded, "My dear, do I need to take you back to the inn?"

Smiling brilliantly, she kissed his forehead before replying sweetly, "No, my love, I am just tired from the train ride. Do you mind if Serene takes me to our room? It is only down the street, and you can come after you are finished with your meal."

At first, Erik was suspicious but he looked at the pianist who stared down at his food then at Christine and Serene in disinterest. He then met Erik's stare and spoke quietly, "Let the women go, Erik. I need to discuss some business with you anyhow. You said you needed to speak to me privately earlier today. I am sure neither woman wishes to hear our boring drawl."

A slight ease settled in the masked man as he nodded for the woman to go back to the inn, which was only a block or two away. Besides Madame Giry had cut Christine's hair, so she would be less recognizable.

When the women were gone, Spencer's expression went from indifference to anger, "I intend to leave for Manhattan tomorrow morning."

Sitting back in the chair, Erik crossed his arms as a menacing aura surfaced around him. "No, Serene and you are staying here until…"

The man interrupted with a fiery retort, "Until when, Desslar? Until you have no need for us and you dispose of our bodies into the Seine? I find it highly unlikely you will bid us farewell with all of the knowledge we have on you. You do not take chances. Besides, I am going back to America, alone. I do not care about you. I don't care what happens to you. I also have no desire to inform the police."

"Why should I believe you?"

The pianist leaned forward at the table, his hazel eyes lit up with hostility as he folded his hands together before answering, "You should believe me because I know that informing the police would mean more innocent people will die. The only way I know you will receive justice for all the wrongs you have done is what the Hindus believe in: karma. What goes around comes around. All I have to do is wait on life, and it will catch up to you."

Ignoring the blathering of the impudent man, Erik's voice darkened and dripped with sarcasm as he questioned, "Why are you not returning home with the Doctor, Willows?"

Not even missing a beat, he responded resentfully, "Because she would rather be in your company than mine. She believes you can be saved."

Leaning forward so his masked face was mere inches from the pianist's angered one, Erik cocked his head to the side and whispered, "And what do you believe, _Spencer_?"

Smiling sardonically, Spencer mimicked the masked man's antics and mockingly replied, "I believe you do not _want_ to be saved."

Shrugging his massive shoulders, Erik straightened up and said nothing, returning to his meal as he watched the pianist do the same. It had been a long time since he had a battle of wills with a worthy opponent. This would be one interesting time in his life. Too bad the boy would be leaving tomorrow, but it was better because he still had the man's wife, Dr. Serene, wrapped in his spell.

"Hurry, Christine, you haven't much time! You only have an hour before the men return from dinner! That's all I could get Spencer to do."

Christine came down with one bag of some clothes and supplies she had stowed away with the Willows' help. Her blue cloak concealed her form as she blended with the night. She would need the camouflage, so she could ride undetected to the de Chagny mansion.

Megan had been kind enough to lend Christine her husband Theo's prized thoroughbred when they met earlier that day. Meg had been so excited to see her best friend alive and well, and took her off away from Erik's hawk eyes in order to have 'girl chitchat' when in actuality; they mapped out Christine's plan to get to Raoul.

As the women said goodbye, Christine mounted the horse as Serene tied her bag to the saddle before the former singer rode off into the night as fast as the horse could gallop. The doctor watched her friend go disappear and returned to the room with the letter in her lap as she sat on the bed and waited.

An hour later, Spencer and Erik arrived back at the inn but to a surprise for one of them. Erik came into the room, expecting to find Christine asleep in the bed, but instead found Serene sitting on the foot of the bed as if she had been waiting the entire time.

Panic then outrage filled his entire being as he realized what had happened. He had been duped by them all! She had lied to him again! With a cry of rage, he stalked over to Serene whose responsibility was to keep Erik occupied as long as possible so Christine would have more time to get to Raoul and run.

Snatching her hair, the masked man viciously snarled into her calm face, "Where is she! Where did she go?"

Shrugging the doctor calmly answered, "I do not know. I fell asleep and when I woke up, she was gone."

He spit in her eyes before screaming in rage, "You are lying! Tell me where she is now!"

Spencer's first reaction to seeing his wife being savaged by the Phantom was to attack Erik, but he knew he had to keep his promise to Christine as his wife was currently doing. So he leaned on the door's frame, calmly crossing his arms across his chest with a smug grin on his face before he did a very brave thing.

"Tell me, Erik. How does it feel to have the woman you love leave you, but with no clue as to where she has gone?"

As he anticipated, Spencer remained still when Erik whirled around in rage. He jerked Spencer's wife to her feet and slapped her face four times with such brutal force, her nose and lip bled. Then he slammed her body into the ground and as she laid there motionless, a sudden overwhelming rage filled Spencer.

The masked man reached into his coat, and the musician immediately knew what the masked man was trying to do. Without a second thought, Spencer grabbed his knife and right as Erik snapped his wrist, he used the knife to slice through the Punjab lasso. When the weapon fell to the ground useless, Erik cried out with rage and attacked, eerily reminiscent of a lion whose plan foiled.

Now the men were on the ground, punching and kicking each other. Both skilled in the art of fighting, they found an equal opponent as they continued to combat the other's blows. Serene lay on the floor next to the brawling men motionless before with a groan, tried to rise to her feet.

As she sat up on her knees attempting to regain her senses, Spencer was momentarily distracted by his wife's brutal beating that the masked man finally gained the upper-hand. With such atrocious force, Erik slammed the pianist's head back on the floor then began to punch his face with all the strength he had.

Soon, Spencer lost consciousness and did not fight back the blows anymore. Erik then stood and began to kick the battered man in the ribs as hard as he could. When Serene's vision came into focus and she saw her husband literally being beat to death, she snatched the letter that had fallen underneath the bed, and screamed as loud as possible, "Erik, stop! Erik, she left you a letter! STOP!"

In the midst of the outraged haze that clouded his judgment and mind, Erik heard the doctor's pleas and stopped. So blind by rage, he had nearly killed the two people who knew the whereabouts of _his_ Christine.

With one thrust, he shoved Spencer's limp body to the ground before snatching the letter, greedily and leaving the room. Going to the next room, Erik furiously opened the envelope and his eyes read over the letter. His heart cried out in his chest as the familiar pain of heartbreak came rushing back. Not only had he punished the wrong people, he had proved Christine right about their love for each other causing other people to get hurt. Yet, he knew he could never let her go. He had to find her. He had to!

In too much pain, Serene crawled on hands and knees to her husband's body and held his black and blue bleeding face in her arms and cried, her tears spilling on to her husband's pummeled countenance. Between gasps of pain and remorse, she brokenly whispered to her lover.

"I'm so sorry, my love. This is all my fault. I am so sorry!"

The purple bruises had begun to set in on her own face as she rocked her half-conscious love in her arms. When he opened up his swollen eyes, Serene smiled lovingly down at his battered face. Yet, her smile quickly vanished when she noticed something was not right. His pupils did not dilate properly.

His words confirmed her worst fear. "Serene, I cannot see…I am blind."

_--Paris Opera House Alley--_

Nadir had gone with Raoul to the mansion to make sure he would be safe; he had no idea that he had made a grave error in judgment, leaving Darius with the police captain. Darius was holding the lantern up on the west side of the Opera House, squinting in the night's darkness combined with the dark alley in order to locate the hidden passageway to Erik's lair.

Yet, Captain Agnew had _no_ intention of going down to the underground lake. He knew with every fiber of his policeman's body that Erik was no fool and would not be the one place every one expected him to be.

As the youth worked tirelessly, searching for that one individual brick with his back turned to Agnew, he had no idea what danger he was in. The Captain reached into his coat's inner pocket and retrieved the black apparatus he had hidden prior to the venture to the theater. Making sure no one could witness this act he was about to commit, Armand approached behind the youth who was preoccupied.

Without another moment's hesitation, he wrapped the rope around the boy's neck. The lantern dropped and glass shattered as kerosene met the flame. With a burst of light, the kerosene erupted into flames, illuminating the alley as the Captain continued to strangle Darius. Even though the policeman was stronger than the adolescent by far, the boy struggled against his attacker valiantly but to no avail. He could not scream now. He could not breathe, as the Captain pulled the rope tighter around the neck.

The boy beat the Captain's arms with his fists but soon his body went limp, and the boy slid out of the man's firm grasp. When Agnew quietly put out the fire, he dropped the Punjab lasso, still around Darius's neck and walked out into the cold night, leaving the body to the elements.

That impudent Arabian and Comte would believe that the masked man had killed the boy to keep his freedom; they would thirst for revenge and lead Agnew right to Desslar. All he had to do now was wait and come up with the lie about leaving Darius for only a moment's time.

Then when the time came, he would make sure Nadir met the same fate as Erik, and then the Comte would be on _his_ side. The Captain was giddy all over and whistled happily as he strolled down to the police department, enjoying every minute of his victory.

**A/N: Thanks to all who review and enjoy this story. Next chapter, Erik emerges as the Phantom once more. Raoul and Christine have a candid conversation. Nadir finds Darius's body, and the Captain discovers Madame Giry's secret. This chapter is dedicated to ShadowArcher. Thanks for all the support and feedback! I appreciate all you have to say!**

**As always, enjoy!**

**RainsP.**

© Copyright 2008


	18. Chapter 18 What Becomes of the Broken He

_Disclaimer: I absolutely do NOT own, nor do I gain any monetary subsidies, for this fan fiction story. The characters, setting, names belong to the author that created them (Leroux, Kay), BUT the plot is all mine!_

**Author's Note: Thanks for the reviews! I appreciate the feedback. I will try to be more diligent in updating both MMM and ****The Guardian of Gorham City,**** but whether that will be plausible remains to be seen since college and work may demand most of my time. However, I will try! Thanks and as always, read and enjoy!**

**In this chapter, ****Erik emerges as the Phantom once more. Raoul and Christine have a candid conversation. Nadir finds Darius's body, and the Captain discovers Madame Giry's secret. Some may find the need for some tissues…It is a very sentimental chapter.**

"_**I would rather have eyes that cannot see; ears that cannot hear; lips that cannot speak, than a heart that cannot love."**_

**Robert Tizon quotes**

"_**In taking revenge, a man is but even with his enemy; but in passing it over, he is superior."**_

**Francis Bacon**

"_**There is no grief like the grief that does not speak."**_

**Henry Wadsworth Longfellow**

_**Chapter Eighteen-What Becomes of the Broken Hearted**_

_As I walk this land of broken dreams_

_I have visions of many things_

_But happiness is just an illusion_

_Filled with sadness and confusion_

_What becomes of the broken hearted_

_Who had love that's now departed_

_I know I've got to find_

_Some kind of peace of mind_

_Maybe_

_The roots of love grow all around_

_But for me they come a tumblin' down_

_Everyday heartaches grow a little stronger_

_I can't stand this pain much longer_

_I walk in shadows_

_Searching for light_

_Cold and alone_

_No comfort in sight_

_Hoping and praying for someone to care_

_Always moving and going nowhere_

_What becomes of the broken hearted_

_Who had love that's now departed_

_I know I've got to find_

_Some kind of peace of mind_

_Help me please_

_I'm searching though I don't succeed_

_But someone look, there's a growing need_

_All is lost, there's no place for beginning_

_All that's left is an unhappy ending_

_Now what becomes of the broken-hearted_

_Who had love that's now departed_

_I know I've got to find_

_Some kind of peace of mind_

_I'll be searching everywhere_

_Just to find someone to care_

_I'll be looking everyday_

_I know I'm gonna find a way_

_Nothing's gonna stop me now_

_I'll find a way somehow_

_I'll be searching everywhere_

**(A/N: Jimmy Ruffin's 'What Becomes of the Broken Hearted?'-A beautiful song)**

Nadir knelt down on his aging knees to get a closer look of the boy that he had once considered his own son. The body had already drawn flies, although few due to the late winter cold, and the small body was rigid from rigor mortis. His glazed eyes of terror were frozen in time, still accentuating the gruesome fright he must have suffered before the moment of his sudden death.

Tears stung the Persian's eyes as a large ache began to pulsate in the back of his throat. The Punjab lasso was taut against the boy's blue skin, leaving a purplish ligature mark around his broken neck. His body, slumped against the brick wall, head dislocated from the neck, and those grey-glazed eyes forever would haunt Nadir as he finally closed the Darius's eyes for the last time. Gently as he could, he lay the stiff corpse down and covered the body with his cloak. He could not feel the biting wind as it railed against his form, battering his back with voracious tenacity as it warned of an oncoming storm.

The sky rumbled as some drops of rain began to fall. Turning away, Nadir stifled a sob as the police carelessly carted the dead boy to the morgue. Biting the back of his hand, the Arab tried to process this senseless brutality, but his mind could not focus. His heart cried out with such pain, familiar pain, which he nearly collapsed from grief. Familiar pain was always worse than pain first felt.

"Khan, I am sorry for your loss."

The Arabian did not even turn his head in the direction of the dreaded voice he knew all too well. The Captain came forward and pressed a hand on the Persian's shoulder. Sighing, the police chief signaled one of his men and wrapped a blanket around the shivering man's form.

Once Nadir found his voice, he spoke quietly and coldly towards Agnew, "I wish to be alone now."

With a brief nod, the police officer left Nadir in the street as the storm rumbled in the sky. Rain began to pour down but the Persian stood still in the abandoned Parisian street unable to grasp the death of the boy he had loved more than life. Then, that memorable hurt began to surface in his chest, the familiar pain of losing a child, Reza. Now that ache increased twofold as his old knees gave way in the street. Collapsing, he stared up into the black sky and blinked several times due to the raindrops that poured down his face before his mouth opened; erupting in such pitiful screams that no one dared to attempt to console the grieving man.

As he cried out for his dead loved ones, no one came to his aid and he vowed to seek vengeance against Erik. He was no longer Erik's conscience. The moment the masked man killed Darius; Nadir finally turned his back on his former friend. He would kill Erik, the equivalent to Persian justice. He would kill his former friend to avenge Darius who had not received the chance to live. A life for a life…

_--The de Chagny Mansion--_

"Christine! Oh, thank heavens you are all right! How I have missed you!" Raoul rushed forward to take Christine in his arms, and despite his excitement, the woman was less than thrilled to be in his presence. She wanted to be with…_him._ Yet, she was glad to see that her friend was still breathing and he was in good health. Loving Raoul was easy and therefore she knew that she was not _in_ love with him. Love was difficult, especially when you have to give it up.

When he leaned in to kiss her, she pressed a hand to his lips to stop the kiss from happening. Puzzlement flared in his blue eyes and his brows furrowed in surprise as he tried to register why she suddenly looked at him with her sad beautiful eyes.

"Christine, what have I done?"

Tears then slid down her cheeks as she closed her eyes, grief consuming her. This was the moment she had been dreading. She was about to break her friend's heart…again.

"You have done nothing wrong, Raoul. It is I that has failed you."

Turning her back to him, she strolled to the window that overlooked the vast green lawn with the small creek and chirping birds. She felt his eyes' piercing gaze at her back and she swallowed the large lump in her throat as she prepared to confess everything.

"I love him, Raoul."

A soft gurgling sound was heard behind her as Raoul scoffed, "Excuse me, I believe I have misheard you…What did you say again?"

Turning to face his worried countenance, she spoke louder, "No, you heard me correctly. I love Erik…I love the Phantom…"

His blue eyes widened in horror and repulsion as he exclaimed, "No That monster has brainwashed you! He has done something to hurt you! I will not let him get away with this. He will pay for hurting you!"

"No! Raoul, listen to me! I have been lying to you this whole time…even before the train accident that took my memory. I remember everything…I remember when I first realized I loved Erik, and it was that fateful night…the premiere of _Don Juan_."

Astonished and heartbroken, Raoul shook his head unable to be so easily convinced the woman he so desperately loved did not reciprocate his feelings. Sitting down in the armchair, as his legs could not stand on their own, he stared at her with eyes full of sorrow.

"So, it is true then…You never loved me…You said you wanted to marry me, but why? Am I such a horrid person that you could not love me? What did I do wrong?"

Kneeling down in front of him, she took his limp hands in her cold ones as she attempted to explain her actions and feelings to her former childhood friend who looked at her with the most heartbroken eyes, eerily reminiscent of Erik's gold eyes when she left the underground lair the last time.

"Listen to me, Raoul. You did _nothing_ wrong. I do love you, but not in the way that a wife should love her husband. I was truly confused as to what I wanted then…Erik suffered from deep madness because I could not make up my mind between you and him. He could not handle my indecision; I drove him to…"

"You did not drive him to kill, Christine…He chose to commit those actions…I think somewhere I knew you did not love me…I believe I first knew it when you told me the night on the rooftop and you refused to answer when I directly asked you. I just did not want to believe you could love him…over me…I tried _so_ hard to save you from him, but in the end, you did not want to be saved, did you?"

He did not want an answer to his rhetorical questions as he paused shortly. Before she could respond, he spoke again with bitterness and resentment reflected in his tone.

"So why are you here? Go and be with him, Christine…I will not fight to be with a woman I love if she is in love with another man…No matter how atrocious the acts he committed, I know he would die before hurting you…"

Christine looked at Raoul and for the first time, she saw, firsthand, how detrimental the love she and Erik shared was. Their love had been toxic to Raoul, Madame Giry, the Willows, and Philippe, too. Raoul shoulders slumped and his refined nature now departed. As the breath that escapes in the winter cold, seen then dissipates in the frigid air, so was the life that now departed the Vicomte's body.

No longer sat the rich, dignified, strong, and valiant man, now sat a broken, heart-wrenchingly sorrowful man whose spirit suddenly seemed to vanish as the night vanishes with the morning light.

"Raoul…I am here so that we can marry each other."

He bitterly laughed at this and stood on two shaky legs, walking over to the veranda that was only a few feet away. Leaning against the railing, he peered down two stories with a glazed, wild look in his eyes before whispering to her when she approached him from behind.

"Do you ever wonder what death is like, Christine? Erik should know; he brings it wherever he goes. While you have been keeping secrets, I, too, have not been forthcoming with some of the darkness I, too, hold. Is that why you love him? Because you wish to save him…I want to know what it's like the moment before death…Do you ever _really_ think about the one you love most or do you selfishly give in to the fear of dying?"

He turned towards her with his back leaned over the railing as Christine looked on horrified by the madness that swirled in his blue eyes. Closing them, he sighed heavily before speaking normally again as he retained his sanity.

"I fear death…Fear is what keeps us from going after what we want most…And I fought that fear to be with you…and look what happened…My greatest fear came to fruition. You never loved me. Now you come back in my life and spit in my face with a request of what I wanted most: a beautiful marriage with you _filled with love_. You have the audacity after all I have gone through to be with you to ask for a marriage not out of love but of fear. Do you truly despise me. Why? Is it not enough that you destroyed my heart, must you take my dignity, too?"

Christine raised a hand to her lips as she stifled a cry. Her heart ached with such throbbing pain; she closed her eyes to stop the tears from cascading down her face; it was a vain attempt. Why was she even here? She was so cruel…She was ruthless…She was no better than Erik was when he killed, for she had just killed her best friend's spirit.

"Raoul, I am so sorry. I never should have burdened you…I will go."

Before she could leave, his answer stopped her at the threshold. His quiet voice, void of any emotion before now held an astringent but gentle quality to it.

"That's the problem, Christine. You never have been a burden and never will be. I will always love you. I will never get over you…Perhaps I understand Erik more than I would like. Hell, maybe I am just like the masked murderer."

Turning to face him, she rushed forward and embraced his limp body. He did not wrap his arms around her, something she understood but hurt her heart nonetheless. When she peered into his eyes, she saw emptiness reflected back. He had shut down, and all of it was her fault. Madame Giry's motive to keep her away from breaking both men's hearts now came back to her; now she could see why Antoinette had done so.

"Raoul…"

"Shh." He gently whispered, pressing a gloved finger to her lips before enveloping her in his arms one last time. Then he brought his lips to hers and kissed her coldly before he sat back down in his chair to stare at the crackling flames of the fire.

Confused, Christine touched his cheek but he refrained from acknowledging her presence as he continued to stare blankly in the hearth. With nothing left to do, the former singer lifted her skirts and plopped down next to the chair and rested her head on his knee. It was an odd sight. Former lovers who had accepted their fates as being alone now joined in hopes of saving each other from the clutches of madness and sorrow.

Their reunion had become the very end of their union. Raoul silently struggled against the constraints of his love and the draw of darker forces that had yet to be revealed while Christine struggled with the detriment she had caused all of the people she loved. Perhaps given time, the two would find that love never ceases. Love may die, but there is life beyond death; and where there is life, there is always love.

--_La Sûreté Nationale (Police Headquarters) Paris--_

"Commissaire, I have something you need to see. It's regarding the masked murderer's case."

Agnew snatched the parcel of paper out of the gendarme's hand and motioned with his hand for the nuisance to go away while he read the letter intently. The young gendarme gave a reproaching look directed towards his superior before exiting the office.

Suspicious of the masked man, the Captain did not want to take any chances with him; so he had hired his men to do surveillance of the masked man when he stayed at the asylum as well as any of his _friends_. The list included Nadir Khan, Megan Giry, Christine Daae (until her disappearance), and of course, Madame Giry.

As the Commissiare read the letter, a sinister grin spread across his features. Putting his feet atop the desk, he darkly chuckled at the extreme bout of good luck he had just stumbled upon by this small paper. Before any of those on the list could retrieve their mail, Armand and his men intercepted the letters in order to see if the masked man contacted them.

Although, this letter was not originally from Desslar himself, he found the epistle just as appealing. Laying the letter down on the desk, he stared at the feminine cursive handwriting as the letter's details slowly sunk in.

_My dearest Meg:_

_I know that you have not fully understood my relationship with Erik. You simply know him as the Phantom, a man who committed horrific crimes and frightens all who get to know him. Yet, Megan, I have known Erik since he was an infant. I knew him before he emerged as the Opera Ghost and haunted the theater. I once told you I was a godmother to my friend, Madeline's only child. That child was Erik. _

_You were too young to remember, but Erik and you met nearly thirteen winters ago. He was injured from being beaten by superstitious people, and I had to tend to his wounds while you played with your dolls outside the cabin. _

_I tried so hard to stay out of his life and hoped he would do the same, but he always found a way to help me. When I was too poor to take you to the hospital, he supplied me with the medicine that saved your life. _

_I almost lost our little apartment several occasions, and he always came through for us. He ensured we had our home as well as guaranteeing food, medicine, water, and supplies were available for us. Your father died before you could get to know what a wonderful man, the love of my life, was. For that, my heart will always grieve, but you must understand the gravity of what I am about to reveal._

_I loved your father. I truly did. Yet, in a moment's weakness, I had relations with another man, Madeline's widower. Yes, I slept with my best friend's husband shortly after she died and when Erik was but a boy. It was only one night, a moment of weakness, I swear to you._

_It was not long until I found out I was pregnant with you, Little Meg. The day I found out was also the day I found out my dear Ferdinand was dead…just like Madeline…just like the Erik's father days later. Megan, Erik is your half-brother. You two share the same lifeblood in your veins._

_I had to tell you the truth in case you needed this information to survive. I cannot live with my lies anymore. I am sure you know about what I did to Christine, and if you hate me, I understand. I swear to you that I will not meddle in any more lives. Take this revelation and do what you will. Erik is your older brother. The Phantom of the Opera that frightened so many is in a way my child as I consider Christine._

_Please, I do not deserve it, but I simply ask for forgiveness for my indiscretions. I love you. I love you with all of my soul and mind just as I love Erik and Christine. When I see you next, I hope to be married to Nadir. Thank-you for urging me to marry the man I love, little Meg. Your love and admiration for Nadir has touched my heart._

_Seeking your undying forgiveness and love,_

_Your mother,_

_Antoinette Giry_

An evil and calculated plan formed in Armand's mind as his usual sinister grin spread across his features. Oh, how delighted he was to make that masked man pay! Moreover, he certainly could care less if innocent people were caught in the crossfire. No one made a fool out of Captain Agnew! No one!

_--The local inn outside of Paris's city limits--_

"Erik, we need to talk."

The masked man had yet to move from the position he had retained nearly eight hours prior. Empty bottles of whiskey lay next to him, the only proof of any sustenance he had drank within that timeframe. The smell of alcohol was so prevalent that it now took on a rancid odor, causing Serene to cover her mouth.

Sitting rigidly still in the armchair, his back faced her as he stared into the fiery hearth with a blank stare. His mask had obviously been tossed carelessly in the corner of the room, abandoned. He also had thrown his suit jacket on the bed without a care. Not sure if he had heard her, Serene dared to step forward.

Once she reached nearly a foot away, he snarled, "Stop where you stand, Madame."

Slowly turning his head, he glared at her with his fiery golden eyes of fury. She distinctly became aware of the pounding in her skull as she took a frightened step back as the formerly masked man stood to his full, menacing height.

His breath and body reeked of alcohol, but he was not drunk. As he looked at her, he surveyed the damage he had caused to her face. Her cheeks were bluish-purple and there were abrasions on her forehead and eyebrow. Her lip also had a minor cut from her biting it when he had slapped her numerous times. The doctor's once calm green eyes now reflected barely contained terror as he reached out his hand to caress her battered face.

"Serene, I am sorry you had to suffer my wrath…Tell me, how long did you know Christ—she was going to leave?" His voice was so calm that she hesitated, unsure of his state of mind, but she inhaled through her nose and answered a bit shakily.

"She told me on the train. I tried to discourage her…I tried to tell her you would not handle her disappearance well. She begged me to help her…"

Biting her lip, she waited for his reaction. Surprisingly, his grotesque and bloodied face just smiled likening to a Jack-O-Lantern. Turning his back to her, he walked over to the fireplace and rested his head against the mantle, staring into the orange flames.

"Where is your husband?"

Closing her eyes, she did not answer out of fear she would erupt in rage and that would make things worse for them all. Looking up at her, he repeated the question and the doctor closed her eyes and bent her head down to avoid those terrible gold eyes.

Suddenly, she felt his gloved hand forcefully pull her face up to stare into his. Erik did nothing but stare into her eyes and whisper, "My God, did I kill him?"

Before she could bite her tongue, she sardonically replied, "You might as well…Not only does he have four broken ribs, a severe concussion, a battered and bruised body; you also cost him his sight!"

Blinking for several moments, the former Phantom tried to register what the doctor had just told him. Tentatively, he whispered darkly, "You mean to say that Willows is blind…and I am the cause?"

Spitting at him with contempt, she replied, "Yes, you cost my husband his sight! He is lying in bed next door refusing to talk to me…and it is entirely your fault. In fact, this whole fiasco is to blame on you! I wish I had never come to Paris! I wish I had never met you or Christine…Because it seems no matter what I do, I always end up hurting Spencer, a good man who deserves none of what we are doing to him."

Collapsing at his feet, she let the tears freely flow from her cheeks as the overwhelming emotions from the past months caught up with her. Erik stood still as a vague memory washed over him when he had fallen to his knees tearfully at Christine's feet with the same cry. Slowly, he kneeled and held Serene in his arms as she attempted to push him away then giving in to her grief.

Suddenly, she began to scream in rage and stood infuriated at herself. Looking around the room, Erik observed her wild eyes and incoherent mumbling. She then proceeded to tear the pictures of the wall and throw clothes in to the fire as well as any other furniture she could smash and burn.

When she had nearly emptied the room, he saw how enraged she still was. Her anger had not dissipated and now instead of turning it on everyone and everything else, she turned her fury to herself.

Snatching up some scissors from the battered desk next to the bed, she shredded the blanket on the bed then looked at him. Her arms were limp at her sides as she tightly gripped the scissors' handles. The wild look on her face remained and to his astonishment, she pulled her long hair out of the bun and began to snip it off with the scissor blades.

As he watched the beautiful brown locks of hair fall to the ground, he suddenly felt pity for the doctor. He always seemed to have a way of pushing women to their breaking points and now he had pushed Serene to hers.

Guilt and madness swirled in her emerald eyes as she cried out unintelligible phrases and ramblings. Then, she opened the scissors and began to press the blade to the flesh on her arm. Reacting out of instinct, Erik lunged at her and snatched the weapon out of her grasp before she could harm herself.

Responding like a wild banshee, she began to curse at him, spit at him, and fight with him. Yet, he refused to let go of her. Throwing her into the armchair, he used some of the cut Punjab lasso to tie her to the chair he had sat in eight hours prior, rendering her defenseless.

The doctor glared at him with utter hatred as she continued her verbal onslaught. He gripped both sides of her face and the two silently stared into one another's eyes. When she struggled against him again, he slapped her face.

"You listen to me, Serene! Do _not_ give in to the darkness! Do _not _give in to the guilt from the boy's death. You are not the one responsible! I am! I am the reason for all of this! Yet, I know one thing…Spencer is a good man. You are right about that. He loves you…otherwise; he would have left you a long time ago. You are being selfish by hiding within yourself as he suffers in the next room!"

She made no movement and breathed shallowly as she listened to the words Erik spoke as he put on his mask. He gripped her dirty hands and began to sing a dark lullaby when he realized his words were not registering with her. As was a common effect with his melodic voice, her eyes glazed over, giving in to his spell. Soon, her head lulled back as she gave in to sleep. Placing a pillow behind her head to make sure she was more comfortable, he also checked to ensure she was tied and completely helpless.

Once he was satisfied, he stood and left the room to see Spencer. Opening the door next to his room, he found the room to be bright as the sun's bright rays was beginning to permeate through the small inn window. The pianist, however, could not see the sun or anything else in the room as the masked man entered.

"Spencer…"

As his wife had done, the pianist did not move or respond as his hazel eyes stared blankly at the ceiling. He lay in the bed with his arms crossed and silently screaming inside his mind. How he hated the masked man! How he wished to murder him with his bare hands! Yet, he would not respond. There was no point; he was a helpless and pathetic blind man.

"I came here to…"

"To what? To apologize? Well, you can take your apology and…"

"Your wife needs you more than ever."

"My wife needs to save you, Desslar. This whole time she has been trying to save you…"

"She is suffering from a severe mental breakdown and only you have the ability to save her."

"My wife is not the issue, Erik. I cannot help her anymore."

The masked man inwardly winced at the biting and indifferent tone Spencer directed in his direction. Inhaling deeply through his nose, Erik approached the bed and sat down next to the still man. Folding his hands in his lap, the masked man desperately tried to rally his sanity together in order to save the married couple from the same fate.

"Listen to me, Spencer Willows. I do not care if you hate me. I also do not care if you die. I certainly do not care about you or your wife…but Christine does. She loves you both, and so I am obligated to help you two because I love her. You need to stop shutting your wife out and save her before it is too late. She tried to kill herself just mere moments ago. I prevented her from committing suicide…Do you want her to die?"

A flash of alarm crossed the younger man's features before fading back to nonchalance, but Erik had seen the crack in the man's cold surface. Before he could expand upon the younger man's weakness, Erik could only listen to Willows as he contemptuously spoke.

"Haven't you done enough damage? Why do you not finish what you started, Desslar? Why do you not kill me now? I am defenseless as you can clearly see…HA! Take that gun and end it right now. I mean you have lost Christine forever…She left you for this very same purpose…You are pathetic to think you can change…YOU?! Ha! There is no way in hell Satan can morph into an angel…You were a fool to think you could be with Christine…"

"ENOUGH!" The masked man lunged forward and began to choke the pianist who remained silent, all the while smirking, knowing he had succeeded in pressing Erik's buttons. As soon as the younger man began to drift into unconsciousness, the masked man flung his form back in bed. Standing up, Erik began to back away, horrified he had given in to his demons and yet strangely and sickly satisfied of his power.

The Phantom rose up within his body and took over. He would _have_ Christine. He would get her back, and he would get the life he always wanted. He would get the devoted wife he dreamed of and the normal existence he so desperately desired…and to hell with any person who got in his way.

Before he would leave and travel to the de Chagny mansion, he spoke some chilling final words to Spencer who still lay pitifully in the bed. "Spencer, you had better go to your wife before it is she that is in an asylum next."

_--Meg's House--_

"Theo, what are you doing?"

"Nothing, my angel. Go back to sleep; I shall join you within an hour's time. I just have to finish some work."

Megan nodded before traveling back upstairs to the couple's bedroom to sleep while her husband poured over the newspaper that would arrive at every Parisian doorstep within the morning light. The chilling headline read: "BOY'S DEAD BODY FOUND…PHANTOM IS BACK!"

Pressing his fingers at the bridge of his nose, he set his spectacles down on the desk. Running his hand through his curly, burnt orange hair, his green eyes scrutinized over the article as suspicion welled up within his body.

Theo Lancaster was of Irish background, being born in Dublin, Ireland to a poor family. His mother and father had tried their best to raise the family of eight in such troublous times, but often he had known the great pains of poverty and plight of the poor.

When he reached of age, he spent all his money to sail to England where he worked his way up as a stable boy and progressed to his lucrative business of selling the best thoroughbreds for races and the wealthy around the globe.

Once his business was thriving and established, he had moved to Paris to pursue another passion. He always loved literature and had become the Parisian Newspaper editor for the city. He owned the publishing company as well as edited each newspaper edition each night prior to distribution to the masses.

Yet, as he studied the article about Captain Agnew, something within him was telling him it was off. Meg had told him the entire story about the Opera House and the whole scandal involving the Phantom and Christine.

In addition, he was perhaps the most honest and trustworthy person one could meet. Meg had confided to him about Christine, the Willows, and Erik Desslar. Reading over the article for the fourth time, he snatched the paper and put on his coat. He had to see Dr. Willows at once!

**Author's Note: Sorry this chapter is a bit short, but I figure that an update was in order…Finally! I know and apologize for the wait. Please review and let me know how you feel or any frustrations you may have. Next chapter, more drama to come. I am off to work on GoGC. Au Revoir!**

**Sincerely, **

**RainsP.**

© Copyright 2008


	19. Chapter 19 Illusions and Delusions

_Disclaimer: I absolutely do NOT own, nor do I gain any monetary subsidies, for this fan fiction story. The characters, setting, names belong to the author that created them (Leroux, Kay), BUT the plot is all mine!_

**Author's Note: BAH! I am back. I know it has been an incredibly long time, but I have found my passion of writing once more! Please read and enjoy! I see this story possibly having one or two more chapters (including the epilogue) before it will be completed. There will be a few more twists and turns. Enjoy!**

"_Don't part with your illusions. When they are gone you may still exist, but you have ceased to live."_

_Mark Twain_

"_Illusion is needed to disguise the emptiness within."_

_Arthur Erickson_

"_Getting rid of a delusion makes us wiser than getting hold of a truth._

_Ludwig Borne"_

_**Chapter Nineteen-Illusions and Delusions**_

Erik had long disappeared, leaving the Willows alone in the crummy hotel room. Serene tried to talk to Spencer, yet he refused to speak much less do anything else except sit listless in the chair. Serene took a small nap when a knock at the door startled the two out of their reverie.

Spencer made no movement to indicate his interest or intent to answer the door so Serene quickly trotted over to the worn wooden door and asked, "Who is it?"

"It's Theo, Serene. Let me in. We need to talk."

Unlatching the door, she welcomed the Irishman in the room. After sitting down on the divan and other armchair, Serene spoke to the ginger, quietly and hurriedly, to update him on everything that had transpired in the thirty-six hours prior to his appearance at the door.

Theo's face reddened as he listened intently to the story, outraged with the masked man and saddened by the state of Spencer, who sat rigidly silent. Once she was finished, Serene inquired as to what brought Theo there.

"Look at this. Read the article."

Accepting the newspaper, Serene scanned the newspaper article before looking back at Theo with shock and confusion etched on her pretty features. Shaking her head in the negative, she spoke fervently, "There is no possible way that Erik killed Darius…Darius…he's he should be dead! How…I don't understand…"

Theo adjusted his spectacles then took a deep breath, his Irish accent thick, as he replied, "From what I understand, Darius, the boy was with a group of gentlemen that arrived in Paris more than twenty-four hours ago. My sources revealed to me that he was with a man of Middle Eastern descent, the police captain, and Raoul de Chagny. They have arrived in Paris, rightfully assuming that the 'Phantom' brought Christine back…The problem is that you claim Erik was here the past day and a half…the exact time that Darius, the Persian boy, was murdered."

Spencer finally spoke, "Erik was here…He caused me to go blind; I'd testify that about the bastard…But he should not be accused of or convicted of killing that boy. I know he would never kill Darius; he would never cross Nadir."

Theo nodded his ascent, "Yes, yes, I know that is true. Erik does not know of this, I am sure. Where the hell is he anyhow?"

Serene opened her mouth to speak, but her husband angrily interjected, "I would suppose that the masked fiend went to harass Christine Daae, who returned to her former lover…I am sure he could care less about preserving his 'good name,' as it were…"

Shaking his head, Theo gestured wildly, "This is not good. Raoul has protection of armed gendarmes and is in contact with Captain Agnew."

Serene spoke quietly, "Captain Agnew…that arrogant, pompous man has a personal vendetta against Erik. He would do anything to stop or frame Erik even…"

Her big green eyes met Theo's eyes as realization dawned on her, causing both to reply simultaneously, "Murder…"

Theo promised to keep in touch with the couple before he left the hotel. He had to get to work since Darius's murder had spurred many stories in the newspaper as the Parisian society speculated the reemergence of the famous 'Phantom' that had once plagued their city not so long ago.

-_The de Chagny Mansion-_

Christine stood by the edge of the balcony and peered out to the vast gardens and greenery surrounding the mansion. Raoul had become quite sullen, barely acknowledging her, and when he did interact with her, it was with cold aloofness. He seemed guarded when he was around her, something that hurt her but she understood.

The sky was a light orange-pink color as morning time slowly surfaced on the horizon. The sun only revealed itself by a small sliver on the lush green horizon, a remarkable sight. Yet, the beautiful scenery did little to lift her mood. Suddenly in the distance, Christine saw a black carriage approaching at a rapid pace. A dark sense of foreboding welled up within her and all of the sudden; she felt that it was Death coming for her.

Raoul stepped out to look at what caught her attention, and when he saw the carriage approaching, he released a large exhalation. He gave her a small smile before passing a hand through his dirty blond hair, a nervous habit he had yet to eliminate.

"Shall we, Mademoiselle Daae?"

His tone did little to soothe the ache in her heart. He knew it as well; he could sense her detachment from him and this only caused an intense desire to retaliate, but his heart quaked beneath the surface. No. He had to swallow the painful lump in his throat. Philippe would expect better from him. No longer a boy with childish illusions, he must now behave as a gentle man of society. As much as he longed to act out, Raoul knew he had to honor his late brother's memory.

Christine saw the myriad of emotions wash over her friend's face, and it fascinated her like the kaleidoscopes her father would often create for her when she was a little girl. She loved him, and it hurt her to feel him pull away from her emotionally, though she understood. It must be difficult for Raoul to accept the fact she was in love with his brother's….murderer…

Her heart leapt painfully in her chest as the mere thought of her masked lover flashed through her mind. Closing her eyes, she willed herself to cease thinking of her tall, tortured maestro. Javier, a trusted de Chagny employee stood in the entryway to inform the two that Captain Agnew wished to see both of them.

Nodding, Raoul turned towards Christine and extended his arm in a professional way, "Shall we, my dear?"

Biting her bottom lip, the blond former singer nodded and accepted the Comte's arm as he led them to the dining room where the guests waited. As soon as the two entered the room, the two men stood up. Christine wanted so much to let out a small cry seeing Nadir's kind face. She then realized how much she missed Madame Giry, Meg…, and deep within her soul…Erik.

Nadir's brown face relaxed when he saw Christine alive and well despite the chaos that had transpired during the past couple of weeks. Bowing, his deep, accented voice filled the room, "It is good to see that both of you are doing well. Tell us, Christine, how did you escape Erik so easily?"

The Captain remained stoic, his eyebrows raised in an uninterested manner, indicating his apathetic attitude towards the people in the room. At the mention of Erik's name, his emotionless face twitched in slight annoyance.

The Comte turned to look at her, letting for of her arm and taking a seat at the large oak table while all eyes rested on the former singer. Christine felt heat rise to her beautiful face as her heart wretched painfully, constricting her dry throat.

"I…I…Well…Serene helped me…and Spencer…well…many people helped actually…"

Nadir exhaled loudly, before his aged brown face visibly lightened, "It is good to hear that Serene is alive as well as her husband…I feared that Erik might have…well…it is of no importance. By the sound of it, I surmise that Erik has or had no clue of you coming here."

Shaking her head in the negative, Christine whispered, "I lied to him and escaped while the Willows distracted him…"

"Well, I am positive that he will come here at once for you. Good, I have a score to settle with my 'old friend.'" The Persian man turned away, all of the sudden angry, confusing Christine and Raoul.

Captain Agnew folded his arms across his chest, in a haughty tone, explained, "Excuse my friend here. You must understand that he is grieving for the loss of the boy, Darius, who the masked fiend killed in cold blood not long ago."

Nadir sucked in gulps of air, trying to calm his nerves, while Raoul closed his eyes and rubbed his temples in circular motions. Christine paled considerably before passionately replying, "No! No! It cannot be! Erik would never kill Darius…He would never hurt you, Monsieur Khan…He always spoke fondly of you, telling me time and time again how you saved his life…and him from his own self…What reason would he have to hurt you by killing Darius!"

"Because you simple girl, he is a madman! A freak of nature that needs to be stopped before he kills more people!"

Silence permeated the room after the Captain's outburst. Nadir tried to ignore the tentacles of doubt that were slowly creeping into his brain. Raoul shook his head and stood up hastily. Walking over to the chest of drawers, he retrieved a firearm and calmly loaded the weapon to the shock of Christine.

"I do not care what the masked man has done or why he does these atrocities…If he comes near me or Christine, he will suffer the consequences."

Raising his hand, Armand interrupted, "No, the masked man must be captured alive. I am positive that the masked man will come here. You will not need to shoot him, Comte. My men and I will be here to offer protection. The masked man will be brought in and have a public execution for his crimes…"

"NO! YOU CANNOT DO THIS! You cannot kill him! Monsieur Khan, don't let them do this to Erik!"

The Persian man turned and merely looked at her before responding calmly, "He killed my boy, Mademoiselle Daae. I have protected Erik and saved him time and time again…but he crossed the line when he murdered Darius, whom I considered my son. I will not save him this time. I am sorry."

Christine's mind clouded as she lost control over herself. Throwing chairs over, she cried out in distress and anger. Erik would walk into a trap that she could not stop. He would die, and it would be all her fault. NO! Screaming and clawing like a wild banshee, Christine cried out in pure anguish as Raoul and Nadir attempted to console and to calm her. Captain Agnew merely sighed in aggravation before exiting the dining room to meet his men who were arrived in preparation of the masked man's arrival.

-_Meanwhile-_

Two golden eyes lit up in the beginning stages of twilight hours across the de Chagny mansion. Their owner could not be seen, well camouflaged by the dense shrubbery and thick trees around him. His black-gloved hands flexed then balled into tight fists in a calm rhythm as he tried to reign in his anger. He could not afford giving in to his emotions, especially now. The last time he allowed his emotions take control cost him too much. Scanning the vast property, he took notice of the abundance of carriages and gendarmes that sporadically littered the common grounds. From there, his keen eyesight traveled upwards to the mansion where he caught sight of more guards in the large home.

In the far right window, Erik sucked in a gulp of air when Captain Agnew suddenly came into the view of the window and peered out, intensely staring out, almost as if the captain could see the masked man. Erik smirked and thought to himself, '_Well, old "friend," our paths have indeed crossed again…It will not be long now until I so graciously repay you for the 'kind' treatment I received at your hands at the sanitarium, Agnew…'_

His smirk instantly faded when Agnew turned away from the window and Raoul de Chagny appeared in his stead. As the air whooshed out of his emaciated frame, the masked man suddenly felt the electricity in the air. South of his location, thunder roared its signal of an approaching storm. A few raindrops began to fall to the ground, comforting Erik with its musty and earthy smell. The storm was approaching while the storm within Erik only grew.

_ CRACK!_ Erik immediately whirled around with the Punjab lasso in hand to find Nadir standing before him. The Persian's dark eyes flickered nervously and his nostrils flared, the only happenings that betrayed his otherwise calm demeanor. Nadir spoke deeply, "Hello, Erik."

"Khan," was the stony reply.

Folding his large arms across his chest, the Persian cocked his head slightly to the left as he gazed at his former friend with an unreadable expression. The masked man would have raised his eyebrows in curiosity if he had them, that is. He then lowered the lasso to his side and stood up to eye level with his old partner.

"I suppose that you wish me dead like everyone else, Daroga."

"Yes, maybe, I am not sure. I do not understand why you would betray me in such a gruesome way…after I saved your life, Erik."

"I simply do not know what you are talking about, Khan."

"Darius…"

"That boy attacked me on the train weeks ago, Nadir. He simply lost his footing and fell. It is not my fault that the boy was clumsy…"

The Persian angrily interjected, "I know that, Erik! I am talking about what happened after he survived that incident and arrived here in Paris when you used that deathtrap of a weapon to break his neck…You left him in a filthy alleyway as if he were no better than a rabid dog that was unfit for this world! He was only a boy!"

Two fiery gold eyes widened in surprise and suppressed outrage at the accusation. He proclaimed his innocence to the older man, but his pleas were ignored as the Persian man un-holstered his pistol. While the foreigner aimed the weapon at his face, Erik stared defiantly back into Nadir's sweaty countenance before calmly stating, "I did not kill the idiotic boy, Khan. I had no reason to…"

"You never need a reason, Erik!"

"Nadir, I know you do not believe me, but I swear on Christine's life that the boy's death was not due to my hand. I could not have possibly killed him, for I was with Dr. Willows and her husband the past few days. Ask them. They will confirm what I am saying; they are still at that ratty hotel on D'ouvoi Boulevard."

The pistol in the older man's hand faltered then lowered slowly as its owner contemplated Erik's words. Everything that dealt with Erik was always riddled with lies, deceit, and violence. However, there was something different in his former friend's voice, desperation. Erik may be many things, but desperate was never one of them. Nadir knew Erik better than anyone else in the world aside from Christine.

He felt overwhelmed all of the sudden and dropped his weapon. Listless, Nadir gazed into the masked man's captivating gaze as understanding washed over them like a blanket of comfort from old, familiar friendships reemerging. Erik put up the lasso in one of the many folds of his coat before cautiously approaching his old friend.

"Nadir, you have been my lone friend in all my miserable existence, more so than Antoinette even. You alone know all of my secrets and life story. I would not hurt the boy. Can you think of anyone else that might want to frame me for that crime?"

Both men inhaled sharply before simultaneously exclaiming, "Armand Agnew!" Kicking up a cloud of dirt, Nadir uncharacteristically muttered several Arabic curses. Erik tugged his friend's sleeve to lead him further into the brush. Turning to his darkly clad friend, Erik watched his friend quake with intense anger.

"How could I have been so stupid Erik? Of course, Agnew did it; he would do anything to justify you being a monster and kill you for it…That bastard! He even pretended to care about my grief…That asshole!"

Nadir knew Erik had committed monstrous acts in his past, but deep down to the core of his soul, he was no monster. It suddenly dawned on the men how insanely obsessed Captain Agnew was in regards to bringing down the masked man.

"Nadir, I need to see Christine. She loves me, Khan, truly loves me. I do not deserve her beauty and adoring love. Please help me…even if it is to say goodbye one last time…I need this…I need closure."

The Persian pondered his words for a moment before inquiring, "If I agree to help you, you will give me your word that you will NOT kill de Chagny…"

Passively waving his hand, Erik irritatingly grumbled, "Not if you keep him occupied while I speak with Christine alone."

"You are not going to kidnap her and set fire to de Chagny's, are you?"

A long pause stifled the air before Erik sighed heavily, "No. I think I have retired from burning down anymore buildings."

-_Hotel-_

"Spencer, please talk to me! I do not want our marriage to fall apart…I love you! I love you so much…" Serene held his limp hands in hers as she implored to his heart. Spencer's hazel eyes looked perfect, but he could not see anything. His vision seemed to return, but he quickly learned that the only things he could see were outlines of objects…the rest was just blurry.

"If you really loved me, Serene, you will leave this whole Christine and Erik mess behind and come home with me. I may be blind, but I can clearly see how this situation will play out in the end. We all lose. Nobody wins in this game, my love. Please, let us just go back to Manhattan. Let us go back to our normal and mundane existence."

The desperation in his voice broke her heart and Serene wept quietly when realization dawned on her for the first time since she first arrived at Paris weeks ago. She held her husband close to her chest and brokenly spoke.

"I have been so naïve, my husband. I cannot believe I have been so gullible. You are right, my angel. All of this has been my fault. It is truly the right time that we go home and return to our lives. It has been long overdue."

Spencer grinned, his beautiful smile brought joy to his wife's scarred heart. His lovely smile proved a paradox in comparison to his battered, swollen, and bruised face. Instantly, that smile faded as he spoke quietly to Serene.

"Wait, my love. There is one more thing I have to do." Reaching into his front pocket, he retrieved an envelope with black feminine cursive writing scrawled on the front. He held it out in the general direction of where his wife's voice had come from as he explained, "Before Nadir, Raoul, Agnew, Darius, and I left Madame Giry's home, she entrusted this letter to only me. She wanted me to give this to her daughter, Meg, before I left Paris to return home."

"Fine my love, I will pack our entire luggage, and we will go straightaway to her home in order to give her that letter. Then, we will get our tickets for the boat and go home. I miss our home and our former simple lives."

"I do, too, my love. I do too."

-_Inside the de Chagny Mansion-_

"Raoul, can I speak with you alone?" Red, swollen lids from crying and emotional duress nearly engulfed Christine's blue eyes. Her usually youthful, rosy-toned face now was a pallid white color. Raoul's heart broke from her distressed appearance. He opened his mouth to reply, but Captain Agnew rudely interrupted.

"No, he is too busy!"

Christine's bottom lip quivered as tears welled up in her eyes. Raoul always hated to see her cry, and was incensed at the pompous police officer. He gathered her shaking form in his arms and comforted her as best he could, but Christine persisted in trying to get him to talk to her in private. Finally and despite the captain's protests, Raoul led her to his bedchambers. Letting go of her small, cold hand, he turned toward her.

He felt sorry for her anguish while also angry for feeling so weak and manipulated by the woman who loved another man…

"Raoul, you cannot let them kill Erik. Please…"

Shaking his head as heat rose to his cheeks, Raoul angrily retorted, "And why not! That masked fiend nearly murdered his own supposed friend and me in his torture chamber. He is mad! Why do you still insist on defending him? Why do you turn a blind eye to his violent acts?"

"I am with you, Raoul! If I defended his actions, I would still be with him…"

Christine watched Raoul's handsome face change expressions. He sucked in a cold inhalation of air to compensate for the painful lump in his chest that kept pounding, echoed by the ache in his head. Christine tried to comfort him, but the Comte violently jerked away from her. Standing before the hearth, he leaned his forehead on the mantle, staring into the fire. His high cheekbones burned as his eyes widened with desperation.

"Christine, why do you insist on hurting me so when I have tried only to move heaven and earth to make you happy? I love you so much, and I know I always will love you, but I cannot keep doing this. I am doing all of this to protect you."

"Erik would never hurt me, Raoul."

"But he would hurt everyone else, especially if they stood in his way! He tried to kill Nadir, Spencer, Serene, and me…He succeeded in killing Piangi, Buquet, my own brother, and even Darius! I do not understand how anyone, especially someone as beautiful, kind, and loving as you could love a cold, calculating monster like that masked murderer. He killed my brother, Christine, my brother! He was all I had after you…left…"

His voice cracked as grief consumed him, but he refused to weep. Tears streamed down his face, but Raoul spoke from his breaking heart while Christine clutched her chest in pure sorrow for Raoul's heartache.

"You were foolish to come here, Christine. Erik only brings death wherever he goes and to whomever crosses his path. He is obsessed with you, loves you in his own twisted way. He has claimed numerous times that he will never let you go. Despite knowing all of this, you still come here to me, not out of love but of pure selfishness. Do you realize that you have brought that masked maniac of death here, to my home! By your actions, you have not only endangered our lives, but those of all my employees in this mansion. My God, Christine, many of the women that work here have small children!"

"Erik would never harm any woman or child. I will not let him hurt you or anyone else for that matter."

"Ha! Do you think you can stop him in his madness, Christine? You did a _fine_ job of that when I nearly drowned in that lunatic's torture chamber after he started a fire that almost consumed all of the Paris theater! Excuse me if I am not entirely convinced and share in your confidence of your 'poor Erik.'" Raoul's chest heaved from his passionate outburst.

Tears fell from her face as Christine sobbed apologies and begged for forgiveness, but Raoul turned from her pitiful display. She reached for his arms, and he reluctantly obliged. She inhaled his manly scent as her tears seeped through his expensive dress shirt. His dress coat felt warm as he rested his chin atop her head, enveloping her to his muscular form.

"Do you hate me? I understand if you do…"

"No, Christine, I do not hate you. I love you. I just do not understand you as I once thought I did. I will help you in any way I can. Tell me what I can do; I want you to be safe and happy."

Her large blue eyes looked up into his blue-grey ones and her pretty pout turned into a small smile as she whispered, "Marry me…tonight." Raoul pressed a light kiss to her forehead before tenderly shaking his head in the negative.

"No, Christine, I cannot marry you. You love that masked man…God knows why, but you do. You need to face your fears and take that plunge with love. He makes you happy. It hurts me deeply, but you need to find him. Maybe you can transform that masked fiend into a more 'civilized' human being. Maybe you can find the happiness you have been seeking for so long."

"I truly believe that you are one of the most wonderful people that I have ever met, Raoul. I will love you and cherish you as my dear friend until my dying breath. I will take the other route to the stables in the back."

As she attempted to go, Raoul grabbed her arm, "I will always love you, Christine. If you ever need anything, do not hesitate asking me. I will divert Captain Agnew's attention so you can escape."

-_Meg Giry's House-_

Serene held onto her beloved husband's arm as they waited at Theo's door. Meg opened the door a few seconds later and rushed the couple inside her small, but quaint home. Meg was a beautiful woman with a petite, lithe dancer's body, but Serene took notice of a small bump that barely surfaced.

"Congratulations, Meg. You and Theo must be so thrilled."

Meg beamed as she pressed a hand to her baby bump, and confirmed that she was only two months pregnant. She then noticed their faces and frowned. "Theo told me what Erik had done, but I did not expect such grave injuries. He never was cruel to my mama or I, so it is hard for me to understand what drove him to such unforgiveable acts of violence."

"Meg, we are leaving for Manhattan tomorrow morning. Your mother entrusted me a letter for you to read before I left the country. This is extremely important she told me. Forgive me, but my wife has the letter. I cannot see you to give it to you. Neither I nor my wife, have read the letter, so your eyes are the first to see it."

As Meg read the letter, her hands began to shake horrendously before she dropped the letter and screamed. Theo emerged instantly, tumbling down the stairs in confused terror, holding his sobbing wife on the floor while Spencer and Serene stood above them in awkward silence. No one knew the gravity of the secret in the letter.

**Author's Note: I hope this chapter was worth the long, long wait. I hope to will finish this story in the next week or so. It might be sooner. Thank you so much for the kind reviews and readers. I appreciate everyone who reads or reviews. I am off to study for school.**

© Copyright 2010


	20. Chapter 20 Mind of the Misanthrope

**Disclaimer: I absolutely do NOT own, nor do I gain any monetary subsidies, for this fan fiction story. The characters, setting, names belong to the author that created them (Leroux, Kay), BUT the plot is all mine!**

**Author's Note: Well, ladies and gents, we have arrived at the conclusion of the story. This is bittersweet for me as this has been one of my favorite stories. I hope you all enjoy the conclusion. Review please! Thank you for all of your kind words. In addition, there will be an epilogue posted after this chapter. It is IMPERATIVE you read the Epilogue otherwise you will miss the KEY to the story…You will be in for a surprise! I promise!**

"_To think ill of mankind and not wish ill to them, is perhaps the highest wisdom and virtue."_

_William Hazlitt_

"_A man who is 'of sound mind' is one who keeps the inner madman under lock and key"._

_Paul Valery_

"_The sanity of society is a balance of a thousand insanities."_

_Ralph Waldo Emerson_

_**Chapter Twenty- Mind of the Misanthrope**_

As night fell, Christine's senses intensified as she stumbled down the dark path towards the stables. She could hear the nonchalant neighs of the horses and felt a small amount of comfort from the smell of them. Soon, she would be free!

As she approached the barn, she saw a shadow pass in her peripheral, startling her. She stopped and did an about-turn to see the shadowy figure emerge from the side of the barn. Immediately recognizing the dark-skinned man, Christine raced to his open embrace. Nadir held the shivering girl in his arms, surprised to see her at the barn.

"Christine Daae, child, why are you down here?" His foreign accented voice drew her into its warmth and kindness that enveloped its owner.

"I, I came to get a horse," was the whispered reply. Nadir's eyebrows cocked in confusion at such a vague answer. The older man wrapped his coat around the girl's shoulders in a futile attempt to stop her shivering.

Looking up into the older man's face, she clarified, "I am taking the horse and going to find Erik. I want to tell him that I…love him… and wish to have a life with him…like a normal couple."

_Like a normal couple_… The very same words Erik had often uttered when exasperated. How eerie they sounded uttered from the girl's mouth! Nadir nodded his understanding and took her small hand in his calloused ones. Leading her into the barn, he sought cover from any prying eyes. It would do no good if the Captain found them now.

"Nadir, where is Erik? Surely, you have seen him! Or know where he is!"

The dark eyes peered into hers with a keen sadness, but he spoke in an apathetic tone, "Yes, he is here…waiting for my signal. I will go get him, but you must stay here and do not move. We must be careful!"

The Persian gravitated towards the entrance of the barn in one fluid moment and disappeared into the blackness of the night. The thunder and lightning had subsided by now, yet the rain still came down in torrents. Christine quivered though she was warmed by the dryness of the structure and warmth from Nadir's coat.

Erik was here! She was both overjoyed and nerve-wrecked at the prospect of her lover's near presence. Yet, her heart's guilt also tugged at her soul. Raoul…He had been so kind and understanding, unlike any other man would be in his position. Why had he so flippantly switched from vengeful to sympathetic to her love for Erik? Perhaps it was a trap! Perhaps he sent her away to lure Erik into an ambush like that fateful night! No…he wouldn't…Would he?

"Mademoiselle Daae…" Nadir's calm voice spoke as he entered. His movements were hindered by the heaviness of his soaked clothes. He removed his Afghan hat to reveal a balding head and glistening of his wise eyes. Extending his arm out to her, he motioned for her to come closer.

She approached cautiously keenly aware of the potential danger that surrounded them all. Her heart leapt joyfully in her chest at the prospect of seeing the man that so loved her. "Wait, Mademoiselle Daae, he will come to us. Do not fret; he is perfectly fine."

A low chuckle erupted in the quiet atmosphere, sending chills down both spines of Nadir and Christine. Materializing out of the storm, Erik's dark figure emerged before the two waiting in the barn.

Entering the barn, Erik shook his cloak to get the excess rain off it before rushing to Christine. Stopping mere inches from her, his gold eyes stared intensely into her blue ones, revealing an intense swirl of emotions: anger, sadness, loneliness, and joy. Truly, the masked man was an enigma…a beautifully wrapped mystery that Christine desperately wished to open.

"Christine…" His deep, melodic voice dripped sweetly like honey, leaving her to want more of it. A gloved hand with long fingers came up slowly and brushed her cheek. Both let out a small sigh of contentment. Resolve crumbled. She rushed into his arms with a small sob. Crying into his chest, she apologized repeatedly.

"Oh, Erik! I am so sorry! I was so…so scared to let myself love you…to give in to my feelings. I know now that I want you. I want a life with you, the life you promised me! Please forgive me!"

The masked man sighed and held her away from him so he could see her more clearly. His hypnotic voice answered her, heavy with emotion, "Christine, you are always forgiven. It took me some time to understand why you left me, but I realize the truth in what you said. I love you…love you so much. I would give you the world if you asked…the life I spoke about, I will gladly bestow at your feet."

Suddenly, Nadir let out a startled cry as he was catapulted back by a gunshot. Christine screamed as Erik directed her to safety behind his immense form. His hands pulled out his Punjab lasso. The horses screeched and paced frantically in their stalls while the lights flickered for a brief moment, making it hard to see in the immense barn.

Yet, the masked man could see clearly. Rage coursed through his blood as he saw Nadir crumpled on the ground, gripping his shoulder as he groaned in agony. Striding over to his comrade, Erik dragged him to a safe corner to ensure his protection from other stray bullets.

"Daroga, will you be able to stand?"

"Yes, Erik, but you must leave me. Take Christine and get out of here. I will keep the cavalry at bay so you can finally attain the life you always have dreamed…Please, Erik, no more bloodshed…especially for my pitiful self."

"Nonsense! I will not leave you to die or remain at the mercy of Agnew. Besides, I have a score to settle with that asshole…So do you!"

"Erik, it is NOT worth it! Go!"

"I will not leave you to die! Nadir, stop being so damn stubborn and take my arm. I am going to help you stand. We will leave together or not at all!"

Grumbling and groaning, both men warily stood up. Nadir's legs felt wobbly from the traumatic impact of the bullet that throbbed painfully in his shoulder. He would need to get that removed before infection spread. The masked man helped his friend to Christine's side. Both he and the young woman lay the Persian in some clean hay.

"Since you are so innately stubborn, I know you need more than that rope to go up against the policemen…Here take my pistol…It will provide you more protection if we are to survive this battle…."

Gold eyes flashing, Erik graciously accepted the pistol as his calm demeanor took over. Erik kissed her lips softly, igniting a fire in both that promised more. Brushing the stray strands of hair away from her face, he spoke hurriedly, "Stay here with the daroga. Make sure he does not move too much…"

"Please, Erik, I am NOT a child! I have been shot before; I know what to do."

Ignoring his friend, he continued, "Keep him comfortable and do not move until I come for you! Both of you remain as silent as possible. Do you understand?"

Nodding meekly, Christine patted Nadir's head and held his hand with the other. Erik kissed her forehead causing electricity to shoot through his body. Turning away, he strolled over to the light switches and flipped them off. Soon, the barn went pitch black.

Cries and shouts echoed in the silent barn as Erik climbed onto one of the rafters above the horse stalls. He held the Punjab lasso in his right hand and Nadir's pistol in the other. He did not anticipate creating a bloodbath, but he was ready if it came to that.

Christine clutched the Persian close to her, and Nadir felt her heart beat rapidly from fear. He drew her close to him, offering her some level of comfort. He knew she had to be extremely frightened.

Someone caused the barn door to squeal as he or she opened it. Rain hindered Erik from clearly seeing the person that entered. It was not until he spoke that all realized it was the Comte de Chagny.

"Erik, come out here at once! It is crucial!"

Bouncing his booming voice off the walls, Erik gained satisfaction from Raoul's involuntary shudder. "Ah, de Chagny! Come to kill me once again? Christine has always been mine; you simply detest that! I am not so foolish as to appear before you…Ambushes have always been your forte!"

Raoul passed a hand through his tousled, wet hair before responding in a brave voice, "I am trying to help you…"

"Ha! Do you expect me to believe that foolhardy excuse! Hardly! No, I think I shall remain where I am."

"I know Christine is in here, Erik. I sent her here…I know she loves you…I know she chose to be with you! I am only helping you because I cannot bear to see her in pain should you die at the hands of the gendarmes, who by the way, are approaching at a rapid rate."

Silently, Erik swung down the rafters and landed before Raoul in mere seconds, startling the young man. He took three steps back before regaining his composure. Nodding heavily, Raoul closed the door and barricaded its entrance with a steel bar while Erik took two lanterns to give some light but not enough to illuminate their location to prying eyes.

Christine emerged and rushed to Erik's side as Raoul's heart twisted painfully in his chest. Already, color had rushed back to her young face. She looked youthful again; she looked…in love…but not with him. She gave him a brilliant smile, which he did not return in the least.

There was nothing for him to be happy about; he lost the woman who had stolen his heart… He sighed heavily before revealing to them, "I managed to convince Captain Agnew that Christine had taken some laudanum to sleep and was not to be disturbed by any one for any reason. I said she had taken refuge in the innermost part of the mansion, so if the masked man came, he would have to come through armed men first. He seemed to buy it at first. I took leave to my library when I heard the gunshot. Rushing downstairs, I hid behind one the door and listened in the conversation as one of the guards told Captain Agnew he saw a figure at the stables."

Every muscle in Erik's body tensed at this. Soon, he would be facing half of the Parisian police force, and he knew he would not be able to escape without shedding blood. Raoul noticed the masked man's silence and continued in a grim tone, "I had Arthur, one my loyal butlers, lie to Agnew, claiming it was one of the stable boys checking on the horses due to the storm."

"Agnew would not buy that reasoning, however plausible. He would know I was here, or at least, would notice the Persian's absence…We do not have much time… Comte, you must help Nadir. He was the one shot by that damn guard. He needs medical attention… "

Raoul's face paled considerably before he vehemently retorted, "What do you propose, masked fiend? That I waltz back to the mansion with the bleeding Persian and declare it was an unfortunate accident? Agnew is not stupid…He will not be fooled…The only way out is to create a diversion…"

"And what diversion do you have in mind, boy?"

Glancing nervously to Christine to the lanterns and then to Erik, he slowly answered, "We must release all of the horses except those you and Christine take…and set the barn on fire…Nadir and I will claim you had gone to the mansion to retrieve Christine to throw them off your trail…"

"That is an excellent plan, Comte… Nadir is next to the last stall on the left. Christine, you must release the horses except for two…I noticed two are already saddled…Release the others and be ready to take those two outside. I will take care of the rest."

Captain Agnew's voice echoed in the distance as well as other police officers' voices and shouts. Time was quickly running out. Raoul had a weak Nadir on his feet while supporting the man with one shoulder. They started out the exit in order to circumvent the approaching mob while Christine rushed the horses out. The two-saddled horses pawed the ground anxiously noticing the tension emanating from the masked man.

Pulling out an extra lantern, Erik quickly strolled to one of the storage rooms and opened it. He smirked when a sight of flares and gunpowder met his eyes. This was a rare time he was thankful for the foolish sport of fox hunting the rich so loved to indulge. He threw the lantern down near one of the kegs before bolting to Christine and the horses. Throwing her up on the black mare, he swatted its butt to send it into a gallop before swiftly climbing on the white stallion to follow his love in the distance. Freedom would soon come at last!

Christine was plenty of feet ahead of Erik and did not notice another rider coming up on her masked lover before it was too late. As Erik pressed his horse to full speed, his keen hearing detected a fast-approaching horse from behind him. Turning he discerned that the rider who was gaining speed was none other than Captain Agnew.

Immediately spotting Agnew's cocked weapon, Erik jerked the horse to make a hard right in enough time to hear the bullet whiz by his head. Ears ringing, Erik growled low and fired a shot back, but Agnew deftly dodged the bullet by pulling a hard left. The horses panicked as a massive explosion suddenly lit up the night sky. The ground rumbled from the momentum of the detonation. Agnew and Erik were thrown unceremoniously off their horses.

Groping in the mud, Erik attempted to find the pistol then tried to reach for the Punjab lasso that had fallen a good distance away. Armand glared at the masked man with such fury that it rivaled Erik's black rage. His beady eyes squinted in the rain, but the masked man knew the police officer could see him.

The high cheekbones burned as Agnew cried out, "Desslar! You will finally get what you deserve! You will die tonight!"

"If I do die, Agnew, you and I shall meet in hell!" Erik roared at the arrogant man before him. Obviously, he was not the only one to have lost his weapon in the storm and chaos. The heat from the fire caused Erik to sweat beneath his mask.

Finally, his gloved hands grazed over something cool and metallic. Yanking it up, Erik tried to shoot, but the mud had jammed the gun. With a curse, he threw the useless tool to the side and restarted his search for his trusty lasso.

Agnew was searching for his weapon also when he found it. He pulled it out of the mud and slime, aiming it straight at Erik's head. With a cocky grin, he called out to the masked man who met his own eyes defiantly, "Say goodbye you bastard!"

Pulling the trigger, both men were shocked when nothing happened. In fact, Erik had closed his eyes, expecting instant death, and opened them to find Agnew on the ground lifeless. What happened?

Dragging his sore body to its feet, Erik warily approached the police captain and felt for a pulse. Nothing. Rubbing his eyes to remove the mud that caked his mask, he realized then what had killed the policeman.

There was a gunshot wound at the back of his head…Blood had briefly pooled out and now mixed with the rain and mud to make a bloody slime which soaked into Erik's expensive suit. He could see no one that could have accomplished killing the officer, and for once, he was thoroughly confused as to who killed Agnew…and saved his wretched life.

"You didn't think I would leave you to die, comrade, did you?" A familiar voice called out.

Erik staggered to his feet and saw Nadir clumsily emerge from the bushes a good twenty feet away. The masked man ran towards his friend as Christine finally arrived after turning around minutes prior. She paled when she saw Agnew's body face down, but she got down off the horse and tied its reigns to a branch. Rushing to Erik, she scrutinized his form in order to spot wounds, but found none to her relief.

Soon, Raoul emerged from the general location that Nadir had come. He and Erik helped Nadir unto one of the horses that had escaped. Using the Punjab lasso, they made a makeshift bridle to lead the horse. The Comte took control of the beast and wordlessly led the injured Nadir back to the mansion where the police scrambled to stop the massive fire from spreading further.

Erik and Christine both got on the horse and rode off in the distance. They found an abandoned cabin in the woods and Christine tried to get some sleep while Erik maintained watch. He was ecstatic to have Christine, but he worried about Nadir. After all, the Persian had sacrificed his health and status to save the masked man's life…again.

Raoul and Nadir did make contact the next day after a fervent search. Raoul had given them three tickets to Spain where Madame Giry waited anxiously for their return. Erik and Christine could start a new life together there and still have their loyal friends. Raoul kissed Christine goodbye much to Erik's chagrin, but he could handle it because he would have a lifetime with the beautiful singer.

Once Erik seized the right medical equipment, he was able to extricate the bullet from the Persian's shoulder and doctor it correctly. They arrived in Spain not long after leaving Raoul behind in Paris. Madame Giry enthusiastically welcomed them all into her home, glad to see all alive and well. She had worried herself sick!

The Willows boarded the ship to America that day, never knowing what in the letter had upset Meg so. They knew it had to do with the masked man… Erik seemed to have that effect on everyone. They sought to put the whole ordeal behind them and start their life back again. Meg and Theo also agreed to forget the masked man and concentrate on their family. After all, family was all one had.

Raoul had quite an ordeal dealing with the police in regards to the Captain's murder. He was questioned extensively, but the Parisian police found that he did not have any knowledge of the murder, though everyone speculated the masked murderer had shot the Captain in cruel and heartless revenge.

Christine was simply glad to know what and whom she wanted. She and Erik created a nice life for themselves in Madrid near Madame Giry and Nadir, who wed in a small intimate ceremony with their loyal companions.

Erik and Christine were next in confirming their nuptials where Antoinette and Nadir Khan returned the favor. Christine never saw Erik so happy, and this thrilled her. She soon was able to move past the guilt of breaking Raoul's heart, knowing he would move on. Life just had that effect on people.

Finally, Erik mused later, all was well in the lives of those that once occupied the Paris Opera House and shared a part in the Phantom of the Opera story that had ceased to be anything but fantasy stories in Paris. He gladly would remain a legend if it meant that he could live a normal life with the woman he loved. Well, he would laugh, as normal as life can be with a masked man and a young singer.

**Author's Note: I know towards the end, it seemed that an epilogue is not needed; trust me, the epilogue is integral to the story. I will try to have that posted within the next week if school allows! Please review and let me know what you all think. I hope you liked this chapter as I am not particularly pleased with the way it turned out. Oh well…it'll do. Thank you for all the support, reviews, adds, story, author alerts! They make me happy.**

**Until the next (and FINAL) chapter, I bid you adieu.**

**RainsPhantom**

© Copyright 2010


	21. Chapter 21 Epilogue Sane is Relative

_Disclaimer: I absolutely do NOT own, nor do I gain any monetary subsidies, for this fan fiction story. The characters, setting, names belong to the author that created them (Leroux, Kay), BUT the plot is all mine!_

**Author's Note: The epilogue is here! I am sad but very happy to have finished this story. I hope you all have loved this story as much as I do, but all good things must end, I suppose. I do not have much else to say I guess…Oh! Thank you for the reviews, readings, adds, and alerts, etc. I am so happy for the feedback. Please review and type a few words to let me know if you liked the ending or not. **

"_The risk of love is loss, and the price of loss is grief -_

_But the pain of grief_

_Is only a shadow_

_When compared with the pain_

_Of never risking love."_

Hilary Stanton Zurin

"_Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not; and often times we call a man cold when he is only sad."_

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

"_Trying to make someone fall in love with you is about as pointless as trying to control who you fall in love with."_

Anonymous

_**Epilogue- Sane is Relative**_

"That is an incredibly beautiful story, Christine… However, do you realize where you are right now?" Dr. Serene Willows incredulously asked the former opera singer who sat across from her on a cot.

The light streamed into the small, whitewashed room, illuminating what most would find a very dark, bleak situation. Christine's blonde hair was matted and cruddy from neglect and her face had considerably paled in the weeks she had occupied this small room.

Her blue eyes had dulled from the frequent use of sedatives that the staff had to give her in order for her to calm down. Twice she had almost killed herself, and although most in the facility understood her plight, society was less sympathetic.

"I am home waiting for Erik, of course!" came the simple, yet elated reply. This earned a sigh of frustration from Dr. Willows. Writing down some quick notes, the brown-haired woman stood and sat next to her patient.

"No, Christine, you are not home. In fact, Erik is no longer here. Do you not remember anything that has happened in the last couple of weeks? You are not in Spain with Erik and Madame Giry…No; you are at the Parisian Sanitarium. You were committed a week ago by your friend Meg Giry."

The woman's face showed no emotion to the comment other than a slight facial twitch before she jerked her arms in the straitjacket. Clenching her teeth, Christine viciously snapped, "You lie! Erik merely went out to retrieve some groceries and such. He is such a good husband…you know. We have a music lesson today. I am thrilled! Moreover, Nadir is coming over to dinner tonight! Erik will be thrilled! The sanitarium burned down…You know when Erik kidnapped you…"

Serene shook her head and said nothing in reply. She stood up, skirts swishing around her, as she headed to the door. Turning to the Christine, the young doctor felt sorrow and pity for the former diva, who now was humming a haunting but beautiful melody. Such a shame!

Closing the door behind her, Serene leaned against it, sighing heavily. When she looked up, her eyes met Dr. Belier's and her husband's sullen faces. She gave them a small smile before reading some of her notes.

"Christine Daae, patient 126, is displaying delusions and most likely hallucinations that coincide with the recent traumas experienced mere weeks ago. She remembers events that have happened in the correct chronological order, but not in the manner that they happened. For instance, she believes no one perished in the fire at the Paris Opera House and that Erik Desslar, former Phantom of the Opera is still very much alive…"

Dr. Belier shook his head in disappointment. Both he and Serene had spent weeks using intensive psychotherapy and at points, shock therapy, in high hopes that Mademoiselle Daae would come out of it a whole person. Yet, it seemed all of their efforts had failed. He bid the married couple farewell, returning to his office as he mentally prepared the next step in Christine's therapy.

Though he planned for new exhaustive treatments, he felt deep regret because in his professional opinion, the young girl was broken beyond repair. She could not be rehabilitated. Too much horrific things had occurred to the poor girl in her short lifetime.

Spencer crossed his lithe but muscular arms across his chest as he paused at Christine's door. Serene took her place at his side, grasping his warm hand, as they watched the unstable girl strut across the room in a graceful dance. Shaking his brown-haired head, Spencer turned his intense hazel gaze at his green-eyed lover.

"Do you think she will recover?"

"I don't know…but I feel that the answer is no."

"Can you tell me what actually happened? I heard her tell that story of what she believes is the truth…I cannot imagine Erik kidnapping you or hurting you…I cannot tell you what disturbs me more, the idea that she created this elaborate delusion or how scary it is that her delusion **accurately** portrayed us…This is insanity!"

Serene smiled sadly and drew her husband into a quick but passionate kiss. Pulling him into one of the secure rooms, they sat down at a table that sat next to the immense window. From their positions, they could look out into the gardens and courtyards. Today was a beautiful day in Paris.

"From what I have gathered in my investigation, through Meg's story, Dr. Belier's notes, etc, this all began the premiere of Erik's ill-fated _Don Juan Triumphant,_ which he forced the theater to rehearse and play out in front of all Paris. Raoul had conferred with Captain Agnew and the other gendarmes to come in order to capture the masked man finally…using Christine as the lure, of course. Raoul wanted to save her from Erik. He did not calculate the fact that perhaps Christine loved the masked man…Maybe he did not want to admit it to himself…She definitely loved both men, according to Meg Giry."

"Such a sad tale!"

"Indeed, my love, it is. Madame Giry and Nadir Khan met and discussed the best way to handle the masked man's predicament…They believed that the best way to handle it was to let it all play out, an immense lapse in judgment, I believe. On any note, when Christine began to sing a duet with _Don Juan's _character, Raoul realized that it was not Piangi, but Erik that was on stage. Alerting Agnew of this, the Captain signaled his men to take aim…This is when Christine tore off Erik's mask in front of the audience."

Spencer closed his eyes, as he breathed, "No, what a wretched thing to do…Erik must have become enraged…and hurt."

"Oh yes, he was enraged…Nadir later said that Erik had spent time with gypsies and learned magic from them…He turned to the audience and with a flick of a wrist, he threw fiery balls into the crowd. The fireballs ignited the curtains on fire and soon, a fiery mass erupted in the theater. The audience instantly tried to run out of the theater to escape the fire, dozens were trampled to death."

"Dear God! What a horrific site that must have been!"

His wife meekly nodded before continuing, "Yes, Raoul managed to slip by Erik and pull Christine out the exit door with Meg and Madame Giry to safety. Yet, Nadir remained in the inferno to help Erik. The only reason I know the next part of the story is because Nadir wrote in his memoirs of what occurred at the Opera House when no one but he, Erik, and the Captain remained…"

Spencer nodded as Serene pulled out Nadir's letters that he had sent to Dr. Belier two weeks ago. He glanced over the neatly written account of that horrific night as his wife expanded by telling the story in her own words.

"Captain Agnew charged at Erik and fired off shots, two of which hit Erik in the chest…The masked man collapsed as Nadir rushed to his side. Captain Agnew tried to finish off the job, but Nadir shot him in the head. The gendarmes had long abandoned the theater, so everyone assumed Erik killed the Captain. Nadir held Erik in his arms as the deformed man struggled to breathe. Nadir watched the tears fall from his face as Erik spoke with great difficulty… _Nadir, my friend, tell Christine I love her…and I only wanted to make her happy…give her the world…Thank you for saving me…Tell her I wish her happiness with the Vicomte…the least I can offer her…and him for drowning his brother in Lake Averne…_ Nadir wrote that he asked Erik what he could do for him…"

Spencer flipped to the next page of the tattered letters from Nadir's memoir, and held it up to the sunlight that poured into the room. His beautiful, masculine voice echoed as he read aloud that portion of Nadir's written account.

"_Erik requested that I hide his body…so that it won't be put on display in Paris or leave him to burn alive…As much as I did not agree with many of Erik's actions, my heart broke for my comrade. I helped him to his feet, he opened a trapdoor — HOW LIKE ERIK—, and we made it to the underground house by the lake…I laid his weak form by the well and gave him a shot of morphine. His breathing was now intensely labored and he was pallid from blood loss… He thanked me before letting out one final breath. I stayed by his side for what seemed like hours thinking, praying to Allah. I even wept for the masked man; my heart broke at his sad existence… All he ever wanted was to be loved by one person in his entire life and he could have held the entire empire in his golden heart…if he had been allowed…"_

Spencer pushed the letters aside and sighed. Burying his head in his arms on the table and groaning, her husband glanced up at his wife's teary-eyed face with a grim countenance. He understood her heartache and compassion for the masked man's story.

"I know my love. Madame Giry, Raoul, and Christine took a train to Spain where they could get away from the masked man and the memories in Paris. Unfortunately, the train did derail like in Christine's story. Yet, Madame Giry and Raoul perished in the accident…Christine survived and watched them die in the accident. When she returned to Paris, she stayed at Meg's home with Theo…for the funeral…There she suffered the mental breakdown that led her to attempt suicide…This landed her in the sanitarium…Dr. Belier needed a psychotherapist and sent that letter to me…and we arrived here. Meg stopped visiting Christine…She could not handle the delusional world Christine had created. She still grieves for her mother…Nadir gave me his work before he passed away a few days ago…He had gotten severely ill after Erik's demise…I do not think he ever recovered from the trauma of that night like so many others…"

"I have no words, my angel, for how tragic this situation has turned out. I am glad that you and I have great health. If this next treatment does not work for Christine, what will happen then?"

"You and I will return home. I cannot do anymore to rehabilitate the poor girl…She will remain here and live out her life comfortably or until she regains her sanity…"

"Sanity is relative…If I lost you, the love of my life, in such a horrific fashion as she lost Raoul and Erik, then I do not blame her for creating a much happier illusion of a life. That would be far better than to try and live with the tragedies…"

"I understand and do not wholly disagree with you…but…"

"I know; you want every patient to get better…"

Serene stared wistfully outside and whispered to her beloved husband, "Yes, but sometimes not every patient is able to get better…"

-_Meanwhile-_

Christine happily stared out to the front of her home, anxiously awaiting her husband's arrival. She was ecstatic that her childhood friend, Raoul, had found a nice young woman to love him the way the young singer should have loved him.

The wedding announcement was in the local papers. Nadir and Madame Giry would be here soon with some food for dinner, and Christine would give them a vocal performance of the song that she and Erik had written together three nights ago.

She smiled broadly, her beautiful face lighting up, as the sound of the door opening infiltrated the silence of the room. Turning around, she exclaimed, "My love, my dear Erik! How I love you and how happy I am you have returned at last!"

**Author's Note: I do not think I need to say much more…I hope you have enjoyed this story…Many have added to their alert or favorites list, so I say THANK YOU! I truly love this story and I am glad it is finally completed. I may go back and add an alternate ending if you did not like this ending…It is up to you guys. Let me know!**

**Sincerely,**

**RainsPhantom**

© Copyright 2010


	22. Chapter 22 Alternate Ending

_Disclaimer: I absolutely do NOT own, nor do I gain any monetary subsidies, for this fan fiction story. The characters, setting, names belong to the author that created them (Leroux, Kay), BUT the plot is all mine!_

**Author's Note: Due to prodding from others, I have now posted an ALTERNATE ENDING to this story. I hope this one is more to your liking. Everything is the same in the beginning as in the epilogue. Only after returning to Christine's viewpoint do things…deter from the original part of the epilogue. Enjoy!**

"_The risk of love is loss, and the price of loss is grief -_

_But the pain of grief_

_Is only a shadow_

_When compared with the pain_

_Of never risking love."_

Hilary Stanton Zurin

"_Every man has his secret sorrows which the world knows not; and often times we call a man cold when he is only sad."_

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

"_Trying to make someone fall in love with you is about as pointless as trying to control who you fall in love with."_

Anonymous

_**Epilogue- Sane is Relative (Alternate Ending)**_

"That is an incredibly beautiful story, Christine… However, do you realize where you are right now?" Dr. Serene Willows incredulously asked the former opera singer who sat across from her on a cot.

The light streamed into the small, whitewashed room, illuminating what most would find a very dark, bleak situation. Christine's blonde hair was matted and cruddy from neglect and her face had considerably paled in the weeks she had occupied this small room.

Her blue eyes had dulled from the frequent use of sedatives that the staff had to give her in order for her to calm down. Twice she had almost killed herself, and although most in the facility understood her plight, society was less sympathetic.

"I am home waiting for Erik, of course!" came the simple, yet elated reply. This earned a sigh of frustration from Dr. Willows. Writing down some quick notes, the brown-haired woman stood and sat next to her patient.

"No, Christine, you are not home. In fact, Erik is no longer here. Do you not remember anything that has happened in the last couple of weeks? You are not in Spain with Erik and Madame Giry…No; you are at the Parisian Sanitarium. You were committed a week ago by your friend Meg Giry."

The woman's face showed no emotion to the comment other than a slight facial twitch before she jerked her arms in the straitjacket. Clenching her teeth, Christine viciously snapped, "You lie! Erik merely went out to retrieve some groceries and such. He is such a good husband…you know. We have a music lesson today. I am thrilled! Moreover, Nadir is coming over to dinner tonight! Erik will be thrilled! The sanitarium burned down…You know when Erik kidnapped you…"

Serene shook her head and said nothing in reply. She stood up, skirts swishing around her, as she headed to the door. Turning to the Christine, the young doctor felt sorrow and pity for the former diva, who now was humming a haunting but beautiful melody. Such a shame!

Closing the door behind her, Serene leaned against it, sighing heavily. When she looked up, her eyes met Dr. Belier's and her husband's sullen faces. She gave them a small smile before reading some of her notes.

"Christine Daae, patient 126, is displaying delusions and most likely hallucinations that coincide with the recent traumas experienced mere weeks ago. She remembers events that have happened in the correct chronological order, but not in the manner that they happened. For instance, she believes no one perished in the fire at the Paris Opera House and that Erik Desslar, former Phantom of the Opera is still very much alive…"

Dr. Belier shook his head in disappointment. Both he and Serene had spent weeks using intensive psychotherapy and at points, shock therapy, in high hopes that Mademoiselle Daae would come out of it a whole person. Yet, it seemed all of their efforts had failed. He bid the married couple farewell, returning to his office as he mentally prepared the next step in Christine's therapy.

Though he planned for new exhaustive treatments, he felt deep regret because in his professional opinion, the young girl was broken beyond repair. She could not be rehabilitated. Too many horrific things had occurred to the poor girl in her short lifetime.

Spencer crossed his lithe but muscular arms across his chest as he paused at Christine's door. Serene took her place at his side, grasping his warm hand, as they watched the unstable girl strut across the room in a graceful dance. Shaking his brown-haired head, Spencer turned his intense hazel gaze at his green-eyed lover.

"Do you think she will recover?"

"I don't know…but I feel that the answer is no."

"Can you tell me what actually happened? I heard her tell that story of what she believes is the truth…I cannot imagine Erik kidnapping you or hurting you…I cannot tell you what disturbs me more, the idea that she created this elaborate delusion or how scary it is that her delusion **accurately** portrayed us…This is insanity!"

Serene smiled sadly and drew her husband into a quick but passionate kiss. Pulling him into one of the secure rooms, they sat down at a table that sat next to the immense window. From their positions, they could look out into the gardens and courtyards. Today was a beautiful day in Paris.

"From what I have gathered in my investigation, through Meg's story, Dr. Belier's notes, etc, this all began the premiere of Erik's ill-fated _Don Juan Triumphant,_ which he forced the theater to rehearse and play out in front of all Paris. Raoul had conferred with Captain Agnew and the other gendarmes to come in order to capture the masked man finally…using Christine as the lure, of course. Raoul wanted to save her from Erik. He did not calculate the fact that perhaps Christine loved the masked man…Maybe he did not want to admit it to himself…She definitely loved both men, according to Meg Giry."

"Such a sad tale!"

"Indeed, my love, it is. Madame Giry and Nadir Khan met and discussed the best way to handle the masked man's predicament…They believed that the best way to handle it was to let it all play out, an immense lapse in judgment, I believe. On any note, when Christine began to sing a duet with _Don Juan's _character, Raoul realized that it was not Piangi, but Erik that was on stage. Alerting Agnew of this, the Captain signaled his men to take aim…This is when Christine tore off Erik's mask in front of the audience."

Spencer closed his eyes, as he breathed, "No, what a wretched thing to do…Erik must have become enraged…and hurt."

"Oh yes, he was enraged…Nadir later said that Erik had spent time with gypsies and learned magic from them…He turned to the audience and with a flick of a wrist, he threw fiery balls into the crowd. The fireballs ignited the curtains on fire and soon, a fiery mass erupted in the theater. The audience instantly tried to run out of the theater to escape the fire, dozens were trampled to death."

"Dear God! What a horrific site that must have been!"

His wife meekly nodded before continuing, "Yes, Raoul managed to slip by Erik and pull Christine out the exit door with Meg and Madame Giry to safety. Yet, Nadir remained in the inferno to help Erik. The only reason I know the next part of the story is because Nadir wrote in his memoirs of what occurred at the Opera House when no one but he, Erik, and the Captain remained…"

Spencer nodded as Serene pulled out Nadir's letters that he had sent to Dr. Belier two weeks ago. He glanced over the neatly written account of that horrific night as his wife expanded by telling the story in her own words.

"Captain Agnew charged at Erik and fired off shots, two of which hit Erik in the chest…The masked man collapsed as Nadir rushed to his side. Captain Agnew tried to finish off the job, but Nadir shot him in the head. The gendarmes had long abandoned the theater, so everyone assumed Erik killed the Captain. Nadir held Erik in his arms as the deformed man struggled to breathe. Nadir watched the tears fall from his face as Erik spoke with great difficulty… _Nadir, my friend, tell Christine I love her…and I only wanted to make her happy…give her the world…Thank you for saving me…Tell her I wish her happiness with the Vicomte…the least I can offer her…and him for drowning his brother in Lake Averne…_ Nadir wrote that he asked Erik what he could do for him…"

Spencer flipped to the next page of the tattered letters from Nadir's memoir, and held it up to the sunlight that poured into the room. His beautiful, masculine voice echoed as he read aloud that portion of Nadir's written account.

"_Erik requested that I hide his body…so that it won't be put on display in Paris or leave him to burn alive…As much as I did not agree with many of Erik's actions, my heart broke for my comrade. I helped him to his feet, he opened a trapdoor — HOW LIKE ERIK—, and we made it to the underground house by the lake…I laid his weak form by the well and gave him a shot of morphine. His breathing was now intensely labored and he was pallid from blood loss… He thanked me before letting out one final breath. I stayed by his side for what seemed like hours thinking, praying to Allah. I even wept for the masked man; my heart broke at his sad existence… All he ever wanted was to be loved by one person in his entire life and he could have held the entire empire in his golden heart…if he had been allowed…"_

Spencer pushed the letters aside and sighed. Burying his head in his arms on the table and groaning, her husband glanced up at his wife's teary-eyed face with a grim countenance. He understood her heartache and compassion for the masked man's story.

"I know my love. Madame Giry, Raoul, and Christine took a train to Spain where they could get away from the masked man and the memories in Paris. Unfortunately, the train did derail like in Christine's story. Yet, Madame Giry and Raoul perished in the accident…Christine survived and watched them die in the accident. When she returned to Paris, she stayed at Meg's home with Theo…for the funeral…There she suffered the mental breakdown that led her to attempt suicide…This landed her in the sanitarium…Dr. Belier needed a psychotherapist and sent that letter to me…and we arrived here. Meg stopped visiting Christine…She could not handle the delusional world Christine had created. She still grieves for her mother…Nadir gave me his work before he passed away a few days ago…He had gotten severely ill after Erik's demise…I do not think he ever recovered from the trauma of that night like so many others…"

"I have no words, my angel, for how tragic this situation has turned out. I am glad that you and I have great health. If this next treatment does not work for Christine, what will happen then?"

"You and I will return home. I cannot do anymore to rehabilitate the poor girl…She will remain here and live out her life comfortably or until she regains her sanity…"

"Sanity is relative…If I lost you, the love of my life, in such a horrific fashion as she lost Raoul and Erik, then I do not blame her for creating a much happier illusion of a life. That would be far better than to try and live with the tragedies…"

"I understand and do not wholly disagree with you…but…"

"I know; you want every patient to get better…"

Serene stared wistfully outside and whispered to her beloved husband, "Yes, but sometimes not every patient is able to get better…"

-_Meanwhile-_

Christine happily stared out to the front of her home, anxiously awaiting her husband's arrival. She was ecstatic that her childhood friend, Raoul, had found a nice young woman to love him the way the young singer should have loved him.

The wedding announcement was in the local papers. Nadir and Madame Giry would be here soon with some food for dinner, and Christine would give them a vocal performance of the song that she and Erik had written together three nights ago.

She smiled broadly, her beautiful face lighting up, as the sound of the door opening infiltrated the silence of the room. Turning around, she exclaimed, "My love, my dear Erik! How I love you and how happy I am you have returned at last!"

** Erik's menacing form entered the room as he lifted his finger to his lips to silence her. She turned around so that he could release her from the straitjacket. Throwing the damn contraption to the side, the two embraced each other.

Kissing the crown of her beautiful head, Erik smiled warmly. His plan had gone smoothly. They would finally attain the happiness each had sought for years. He whispered, lovingly to the woman in his arms, "Shh, my love. You do not need to pretend anymore. I am here to save you from this hell."

Staring up at her maestro with complete adoration, she kissed him deeply. Pulling away, she whispered back, her small voice almost drowned out by the raucous commotion of other patients, "I was afraid you had left me…They kept trying to tell me you were dead…Raoul and Madame Giry, but I knew you were not gone in my heart. I did lose myself when I-I s-saw Raoul and Antoinette die in the train crash…but I knew _you_ would never leave me."

"No, my dear Christine, I would never leave you. I saw your love for me when we sang together the premiere of _Don Juan._ I vowed then I would always return to you. We cannot stay here any longer. We must leave! Hold on to me, and we will escape together."

A large explosion blasted the storage rooms on the far end of the asylum, causing chaos to erupt in the sanitarium as staff and doctors tried to put out the massive fires. Erik grabbed Christine and hidden in the shadows, they escaped undetected.

Dr. Willows and her husband checked on each patient after the staff had extinguished the fires and were incredibly startled to find that Christine was gone. The only remnant of her time there that had been left was the discarded straitjacket on the floor.

A few other patients had also escaped in the turmoil, and it was suspected someone had helped the former singer elude the staff. However, Serene and Spencer knew different. Erik was alive, they were adamant in their knowledge. After all, Nadir had left his 'body' by the well, never bothering to bury or dispose the body as indicated in his letters.

With no patient, the Willows returned home to Manhattan where Spencer's theater thrived. Dr. Willows retired from her career to pursue other ventures and became a local favorite with her creative writing. Spencer also gained notoriety for his musical capabilities as a pianist, but both were not complete until the birth of their twins, Damian and Savanna, a year from their return back to America.

No one ever knew what came of Erik Desslar and his Christine. Most assumed Erik died in the fire and Christine escaped or died after the sanitarium explosions. The police could not figure out how the fires happened, though they were sure someone had started them.

Darius buried Nadir in a small graveyard outside Paris. Nadir had ensured his adopted son's future by willing everything like money, assets, housing, and his pension to Darius. The boy left Paris and returned to the northern part of Persia where he lived a happy, but mundane life.

Years later, Darius would return to pay his respects to his beloved mentor. When he reached the small headstone, he was both shocked and confused to find a red rose with a black ribbon tied to it lying on the cold surface.

In a messy scrawl, a letter next to the rose simply read, "Years gone by and I have not forgotten your deed, comrade. Thank you. You and I will meet again."

Darius left the rose and burned the letter, knowing that no one else should set their eyes upon the letter. He returned to his homeland, content, knowing his master had not died in vain or died to in order for others to forget him.

While the boy, now a man, traveled to Persia, a certain masked man and his beloved wife watched their boy play outside their isolated immense country estate near Gloucester, England. The boy of three had some facial deformity like his father. Erik, upon seeing his son born with a milder version of his affliction, immediately took the child from Christine and locked himself in the guesthouse.

Christine desperately tried to save her son from Erik's darkness, and stood vigil outside the guest home until Erik emerged several hours later. The child almost perished from dehydration as Erik's mind was hanging by a thread.

After Christine nursed her newborn child back to health, she sought to retrieve her husband's sanity. It took a week, but Erik came out of his darkness for her and their child. His love only intensified for his family, and his mannerisms and temper had become milder in his older age and love for his Christine.

They never spoke of the past other than their common grief for Nadir and Madame Giry's passing. Christine often spoke of missing Meg dearly, but her husband was adamant about keeping no contact. After all, Meg had sent Christine to the hellhole in the first place. The young singer had learned to choose her battles with Erik wisely, so she focused her energy on their son.

They remained happily married until the masked man died from a respiratory illness in the early 1900s. She buried him in an unmarked grave in the woods near their home with their son, Elijah, by her side.

Elijah had a wonderful life in spite his disfigurement. Despite the occasional stare or cruel remarks from an unsympathetic public, he did find love with a beautiful young woman from Dublin, Ireland. Christine approved of the union and lived happily with the two. She never recovered from losing her precious Erik, though, dying in the spring of 1917 before the First World War broke out.

Her son and his wife buried her next to her masked maestro, knowing they were finally at peace together. Elijah and his wife fled to America once the war began, and started a life in Manhattan where Elijah became the composer for Spencer's theater. He never spoke of his parents because he grew up knowing the importance of keeping his parents' identities anonymous.

Spencer and Serene Willows did not notice anything because Elijah's accent was not French and his surname, Desslar, was quite common in America. The two had retired to their home, becoming homebodies. In fact, their twins had taken over the theater to maintain their father's legacy. They knew nothing of the masked man or the opera singer. Their parents did not wish to rehash that aspect of their past.

The Willows died three months apart from each other from natural causes and their children buried them in the family cemetery in 1925, finally ending the masked man's story.

**Author's Note: Due to the outcry from some readers and reviewers, I have posted this alternate ending. I hope this will ease your anger…*hides from wrath*…This way you can have two endings, and end it with one that you liked the best. I hope this one is better to your liking. **

**Sincerely,**

**RainsPhantom**

© Copyright 2010


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